


Lost Brothers

by Kagemirai, Ranranbolly



Series: Lost [2]
Category: Lost Boys (1987), Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-08 02:25:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6835228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kagemirai/pseuds/Kagemirai, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ranranbolly/pseuds/Ranranbolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>25 years after the events in Lost Call, Sam finds that events from the past have come back to the whole family. The boys aren't too keen on the latest generation to take over the boardwalk, nor are they going to put up with a new 'pack' that decides to invade their territory. It's a new night in Santa Carla, and things are about to get wild.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shopping

**Author's Note:**

> Ran - Warning, the following story contains grossly offensive content regarding the hipster subculture. If you’re a hipster...get over yourself and put the Starbucks down. You don’t need it.
> 
> Kage - It isn't ironic! Enough with the man buns and fake glasses! Part of me wishes it was still the 80’s, 90’s, but you can keep some of the style, like shoulder pads and stripes.
> 
> Ran - And massively teased hair, and anti-bathing hair metal fans, and...Okay, every decade has it’s problems. But hipsters are definitely in the extreme.

_Santa Carla, 2012..._

Natalie smacked her gum, examining a selection of totally krunk duds she'd selected for the weirdo guys who walked into the shop looking for a new 'style'. That's what they'd called it. They looked okay, she guessed...but it was like they'd jumped out of another decade. They were lucky she'd arrived on the scene...Natalie Nate, blogger and tweeter extraordinaire, resident fashionista of the Santa Carla boardwalk scene kids.

"I think you'll just _die_ when you see these," she explained to the one with the spiky mullet...which really needed a change. Actually, that was the first thing he'd have to get rid of, if he really wanted to look hip and wild crazy. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. When we're done with you guys, you'll like...get so many followers on your twitters, you'll just _die_." She used that word a lot. Maybe too much. She beamed, shoving an armful of clothes into the bleach blonde's arms.

David narrowed his eyes at her, looking at the clothes she shoved against his chest, " _Is she serious? I think she's the one that'll just_ die _."_

Paul snorted, sorting through a pile of jeans, " _just try the shit on, Davey. We don't got all night,"_ he wasn't even looking at him. He was too busy trying to find pants actually designed for a dude...why the fuck were these in the men's section?

" _She looks like she knows what she's talking about,"_ Dwayne drawled, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed and eyeing them. Michael was leaning against the counter beside him trying to keep from cracking up.

"Like, listen...I know you're mega crazy shy. I get it. You're probably from Canada, aren't you? Just trust me on this. I've got 5000 readers."

Alright, he'd take these monstrosities and try them on. He stepped into the changing room, finally taking a moment to look over the bundle of clothes she'd foisted off on him. Glasses, there were a pair of black rimmed glasses sitting on top. What the hell? Vampires didn't even need glasses, Max only wore them for appearances. He tossed them out of the room, sending them skittering across the floor.

"I'll get the pink ones for you!" Natalie shouted through the door, misinterpreting his angry gesture as she scooped the glasses up into her hand and marched off to the back room, 10-inch heels clicking smartly and loudly against the bright white tile.

" _Pink? Did she seriously just say pink?"_ David's lip curled back. A few of the things she handed him would work. There were a few pairs of jeans that might actually be decent and a shirt or two, but some of the things she handed him he wouldn't be caught dead in. There were purple shirts, purple, what did he look like?

A hand poked through the door, dropping several brightly-colored chiffon scarves on the floor, "here you go, sweetheart," Marko teased, yanking his hand back before David could claw at him.

"Well?" The girl called out, smacking her gum as she marched up to the door and tossed the glasses over the top of it for David to catch, "how does the vest fit? What about the hats? Do you like the bow ties?"

He threw the glasses right back over the top, "I'm not wearing those." He growled lowly, "I don't wear hats and who the hell wears bow ties?"

"Bow ties are cool!" She defended, voice rising an octave in shock that he would _dare_ to question her divinely flawless fashion sense. Who did this guy think he was?! "You dress like a homeless...gimp! You should take my advice and try the rest of that outfit on! You never know until you try it!" Yes. It was all supposed to be one outfit.

" _Fuck, is she turning you into a gay clown?"_ Michael was very much on the verge of exploding with laughter by now. But then he caught her looking over at him, and a few images flashed through her mind of possible options for his own wardrobe, which made him quickly sober up. " _...We should go to a different store."_

David shook his head, grinning vindictively, " _No, we're not going to another store. You're gonna suffer too."_ He stepped out, finally finding something not too drastically different from his usual attire. Dark jeans and shirt, there was no way he was giving up his jacket, maybe he could find a newer one though...

She wrinkled her nose, "are you serious? You...you're actually going to go outside dressed like _that_?! You look ridiculous!" These newbies were getting dumber and ruder nowadays. Rounding on the other boys, she sighed and tossed her hair, "who's next? Maybe one of you has some _hope_." How the hell did this girl even have a job?!

He scowled, "What? What's wrong with this?" He growled softly, "Pick me one outfit, just one, and I'll see if you actually have any taste."

"Are you kidding? I just did!" She exclaimed, stomping her heel.

"There were like three pairs of pants in there! You can't wear more than one!" David was pissed, "Lay out one outfit on the counter, why don't you just show me exactly how you want it set up." He snarled lowly.

She smiled slowly, "fine. I'll _show_ you how to dress right. Maybe then, you'll be more grateful."

Oh, David was going to kill this girl, draw it out, make her suffer, screw these 2000 readers or whatever she had, they could read all about what he did to her instead of her horrible fashion tips.

Marko whistled, holding a pair of faux denim leggings and examining them, "I can see right through these pants…"

Paul smirked, "Perfect for you, they won't show anything anyway!"

The girl's eyes alit on the leggings and she rushed towards Marko, yanking them from his hands...giving him an appraising look, "maybe there's hope for you. You've got an eye...I can tell," she nodded, slipping back to the counter and slapping the leggings down. "We'll start with this…"

Michael stepped away from the counter, slowly backing towards the door while David was distracted with his mental plans on how he'd gut the bimbo.

" _Don't you dare go anywhere, Michael."_ His mate growled softly, looking at what she was laying out.

Next came a pair of black jeans so tight, they'd probably turn his feet blue. Then a denim vest. Then a paisley shirt. Then a pair of sparkly white sunglasses. Then rainbow suspenders...she quickly got rid of the vest while she pondered exactly how to do this. A vest wouldn't work if she wanted to make sure the suspenders were showed off to their best advantage. Then came a fedora. A pink bow tie. Sneakers with fish painted on them. A plaid scarf. A leather satchel/purse with a picture of Che Guevara on the side. An ironic ceramic Starbucks cup. And a mustache necklace. "Perfect!"

David raised an eyebrow, looking down at the assembled outfit with disdain before looking up at the girl, "Where's your boss?" He stated, voice cold.

The owner of the store was young but older than the girl. The moment he saw them his eyes went wide and he rushed over, "I'm so sorry, what can we do for you?"

"Wrap it up, Davey's taking ten of them!" Paul cackled, while Dwayne pushed himself away from the counter and crossed to smack him in the back of the head.

"Quiet," Dwayne told him firmly.

"Do you usually employ complete idiots or is she the exception?" He drawled, tapping his fingers on the counter. The girl, for her part, immediately turned as red as a tomato and began to sputter for air in her righteous indignation.

His eyes went wider, "I-I'm so sorry." He glanced at the outfit on the counter, not finding anything overly wrong with it but if the Lost Boys didn't like it, well, then he had to fix this before they did something to his shop. He looked at the girl, she had brought in business to them but if this wasn't taken care of he wouldn't have anything to bring business in to, "You're fired." He stated, swallowing hard, glancing at David to see his reaction.

The girl's eyes widened, and Marko eyed her...wondering if she was about to spontaneously combust. He hoped so. That would be awesome…

"You can't fire me!" She shouted, "I've got over 6000 followers! I'll blog your shop into the ground!"

"Those are fighting words," Michael remarked, rolling his eyes and glancing back over at David, " _why didn't you just try it on? Would've brought out your eyes…_ "

He glanced at him over his shoulder, " _Are you serious?"_ He looked at the man, "I feel like we deserve a little something for pain and suffering." He stated, smirking darkly.

He nodded vigorously, "Yes, anything you want, it's yours."

David turned his gaze on the girl, "That's salesmanship right there, girl. Remember, the customer's always right."

"You're not a customer," she hissed, "you're a...you're a…" She pulled out her phone and began to hectically type, "you'll just have to read about what you are on twitter! You can find me at NatieNaughty..." And with that, she marched from the store, knocking down a mannequin in a moomoo in the process.

"Careful what you wish for." David stated, picking out the clothes that he would actually wear, "Get what you want, boys."

" _Where's twitter?_ " Paul asked, confused as he scratched his head. " _Is that a book store?_ "

Marko quietly slipped back to the counter and grabbed the suspenders when nobody was looking.

"You okay?" Michael asked David, warily eyeing him. "Not about to blow a fuse or anything?" Didn't tend to happen too often these days, but when David got mad, and it wasn't directly at any of the boys...not pretty.

"Oh, I'm fine, but I think I found dinner for the night." Maybe he would get a haircut...

* * *

Sam sat across from his wife at the dinner table, tapping his feet nervously under the table. Ed had left a message that he'd be swinging by for a visit tonight, and that was never good news. Diana hated Ed with a passion that rivaled her love for impromptu karaoke nights. Intensely.

"Good potatoes...you make them yourself?" he remarked dumbly. He always made pointless conversation when he was nervous. He glanced over at their daughter. "Susan, turn your music off and put your phone away."

Susan rolled her eyes and huffed at him, pulling her headphones off, "Why should I?" Ahh, teenagers. Ed always told Sam he needed to make sure she wasn't turning, the way she treated him. There was a reason they didn't hang out much when they weren't going on weekend 'hunting' trips. Ed was...a little off-balance. Losing Alan hadn't helped, either.

"Diana, talk to your daughter," Sam sighed, eating a forkful of potatoes and pressing a button on his phone beside his plate just to make sure Ed hadn't left him a message.

Diana looked over at Sam, "If you want her to stay off her phone, you have to stay off yours too."

"...I'm expecting an emergency call. From work."

"Dad...you're an English professor. What're they gonna call you about? Dickens' ghost thought your students' thesis papers were shit?" Susan scoffed. Where she got her manners from, he'd never know.

"Diana, talk to your daughter," Sam frowned, pocketing his phone when he heard a knock at the door.

Diana scowled after him, shaking her head, "Please, Susan, listen to your father." She sighed, "I'll be right back."

Sam and Edgar Frog were arguing at the front door, the gruff and badly-aging vampire hunter having wedged his foot inside the house so Sam couldn't effectively keep him out.

"Listen, Sam, you can't just make this a two-day thing. There's monsters out there, and it's our job to take care of them! Remember the pact!"

"How could I forget?! I have a family to think about and a job! The only time I can is the weekend, I just...Ed, I can't."

"If we don't finish off these last three, I'm telling you, Sam...they're gonna show up again. They're gonna be mad. And it's gonna bite us all in the ass!" Edgar shouted, waving his arms, and making such a scene outside that one of the neighbors turned on her porch light.

Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Ed...I...Just…" He sighed.

"Ed, shut up and come inside, sit in the living room while I have a talk with my husband." Diana stated firmly, she had grown into a beautiful young woman, and in all honesty Sam wondered what he did to deserve her. But right now probably wasn't the right time to tell her how much he loved her. It would only make things worse...she hated when he said 'I love you' at the moments when it was very clear he'd been doing something that would royally piss her off. Like...going around on the weekends and offing vampires with Ed, after he'd agreed to give that shit up about five years ago when their house had been trashed as a warning. Fuck it, he'd try it anyway.

"Diana...I love you?" Sam asked hopefully as Ed stepped into the house and grunted, rubbing at his foot.

She glared at him, waiting for Ed to leave. But before the hammer could fall, Sam's phone rang. He hurriedly pulled it from his pocket and answered it, frowning. Who would be calling him at this hour, if Ed was already here?

"Samuel Emerson?" A gruff voice on the other end asked.

"Yeah…"

"I'm sorry to tell you this, but your mother and grandfather have been in an accident."

* * *

David flopped back on the couch, he had gotten his hair cut but the others had remained fairly stubborn about their own styles. Man-buns and coiffures just didn't...work. Whoever had invited this new class of fashionistas and 'hipsters' into the city really needed to have his neck snapped. Hell, the only thing different he had done was cut it shorter in the back but left the top as it was.

Michael yawned, leaning against David and shoving him a little to gain more space on the couch for himself. David grumbled softly but relented, shifting to give him some extra room before settling back into place, absently wrapping an arm around his waist. Michael turned his head to the side a little and nipped at David's ear, growling deep in his throat. He chuckled softly, licking up a stray drop of blood from the corner of Michael's mouth.

" _You spilled a little."_

" _Mine,"_ Marko snapped at Paul, yanking a bloodied cell phone from his grasp and hopping away from the fountain they'd been sitting on. " _How does this thing even work?_ " He scowled, shaking it and jabbing at the screen. It was a souvenir from the crazy bitch at that clothing shop. They'd even kept her scalp to be put in a place of pride later.

" _It's broken, dumbass,_ " Dwayne rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall and relaxing while he nursed a bottle of beer.

Paul glared at him, " _And who's fault is that?"_

Dwayne narrowed his eyes, " _she wouldn't stop trying to take my fucking picture! Bitch was half-dead, still clinging to that thing..."_

" _So you had to break it? Come on, I wanted to play with it."_

David rolled his eyes, " _Boys, boys, everyone has one of those these days, we'll get another one off the next one and you can play with it."_ It felt like he was dealing with children sometimes. His fingers closed around Michael's hip, thumb absently rubbing, " _I still think you should try one of those weird man-buns, Paul."_

" _Maybe I will,"_ Paul retorted, pulling his hair back. " _Still look more like a dude than the midget over here."_

Marko looked offended, " _I'm more of a guy than you are, pencil dick!"_

Michael wrinkled his nose, " _why are you always talking about each other's dicks?"_

" _What dicks?_ " Dwayne rolled his eyes.

David grinned, " _Exactly, they don't have anything to whip out and measure._ " He paused, " _Are they going concave? I think they are. They're gonna wind up with vaginas before too long."_

" _Ugh...they'd make some pretty grody-looking chicks...that's enough to make anyone's dick go concave…"_ Michael snorted, " _they'd start an epidemic."_ He glanced over at Paul and Marko in mock horror.

" _Yeah, bet you'd_ hate _that, huh Mikey."_ Paul sneered at him and David growled.

" _Yeah, sorry, mine's not falling off."_ David sneered, " _Besides, you're not good enough to make me want to stick my dick anywhere near you."_

" _You don't need to. You're already one big-"_ Paul began, when Marko launched himself at Paul, tackling him to the ground and biting his shoulder.

Paul let out a yelp, smacking Marko on the head, trying to get him to let go. Marko growled, shaking his head like a dog with a bone. Paul smacked him again, "You son of a bitch!" He shrieked.

Marko yelped as Paul finally got some leverage and hit him hard in the back of the head. The smaller vampire reared back, mouth stained red with blood, teeth bared in anger.

"I feel like there's something missing…" David looked thoughtful before snapping his fingers, "Popcorn! Show like this deserves popcorn."

Marko pounced again, digging his fangs into Paul's shoulder, pinning the larger vampire to the ground. Paul gave one last struggle and growl before going still, submitting. Marko jumped up, practically giddy, "Ha! I won, bitch!"

Paul grumbled, looking down at his torn shirt, "Asshole."

"Two in a row?" Michael snorted, "you're losing your touch, Paul." Just then, a loud buzzing sound broke through their conversation. Michael glanced over at the fountain in surprise, where his scratched-up flip phone lay. He only charged it when he went to visit mom and grandpa, because they were the only people who called him. Kinda hard to have contacts when you're probably going to eat most of them eventually.

"You. Have. _One._ Message." A robotic voice informed them politely before the buzzing stopped.

Marko, still pumped-up from his recent victory, happily scooped the phone up and tossed it at the couch, nailing David in the head in the process, "oops. _Sorry,_ Davey." He wasn't very sorry.

David growled, showing his teeth and handing Michael his phone, " _Well, play it!"_

Michael rolled his eyes and flipped the phone open, dialing his number and switching it on speaker mode. If his mom or grandpa had anything to say, the others would find out about it anyway.

"Michael, we gotta keep moving. Might be the last time you hear from us for awhile. Keep a lookout." Grandpa's voice was gruff but there was an underlying worry in his tone. He was scared.


	2. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam jumps to ridiculous conclusions. The brothers fight. Mike talks to David about change. There's a new 'club' in town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ran - Man. 25 years of killing people made Mike pretty harsh, huh?
> 
> Kage - Hey, you get used to it! For them I'm sure they think murder is fun by this point and Michael...well, he's one of them now!

_3 days later…_

The funeral had been small. Grandpa and Lucy were buried on the same day in plots close to each other near Sam's grandmother. He hadn't been to the house yet. Wasn't ready to go back to sort out their affairs. Too many memories. And when all was said and done, Diana had given him an ultimatum before she hustled their daughter into the car. Give up on hunting, let his past go, and move on...or don't bother coming home after he dealt with the estate sale.

It was early evening when he finally left the cemetery, and he was more than a little bitter that the brother he knew still 'lived' in the same city couldn't even be there. Would he have even showed up, Sam wondered, if he could? They hadn't spoken since he was in college. Even then, their last conversation...hadn't been a pleasant one.

Sam sighed, slamming his car door behind him and stomping towards the house. He wished he could just walk away. Leave it. Pretend this place never existed. But he couldn't. So he forced himself to cross the porch and yank the front door open...something was _very_ wrong…

The room was trashed. Broken furniture and a few splatters of blood decorated the room. He stepped further inside, seeing what was written in red across the far wall, 'this is only the beginning'.

He hesitantly made his way to the kitchen, another message written there, 'we should have finished what we started a long time ago'. What did it mean? Did whoever wrote these messages have something to do with their deaths? He froze, what if, what if the Lost Boys did it? What if Michael...What if his brother had finally lost it? They didn't part on the best terms, Michael didn't _want_ to be cured, he wanted to be a shit sucking vampire, so what if he killed mom...

Sam squeezed the car keys he held in his hand so tight, the imprint nearly cut into his palm, before he ran back to the front door and kicked it open. The sun was still up. There was still time to send them a message of his own. He cursed as he yanked open his car door and glared at a bag propped up in his passenger seat. There were a couple of stakes there...fuck, he knew he was going to die tonight if he did this. But he'd be damned if he didn't take a few of those shit-suckers out with him!

* * *

David was having an awesome dream when a voice he hoped he would never hear again rang through the hotel, "Alright you sons of bitches! You wanna take me out?! Come and get it!" Sam.

A soft grumble escaped his lips, "The hell is wrong with the little twerp?" He grumbled, pressing his nose against Michael's shoulder, taking in a deep breath, "He go nuts?"

"Hm?" Michael yawned, "stop yelling in my ear…" he mumbled tiredly, still too deep in sleep to register exactly what was going on.

David grumbled again, "This isn't over." He mumbled, falling back asleep.

Sam was yelling again.

"Shuddap ya li'l shit!" Paul yelled, grumbling and pulling a teddy bear in against his chest.

Marko cracked open an eye and squinted at Paul, "where the hell'd you get that? You didn't go to sleep with it…"

That seemed to wake him up a little bit and he quickly threw the bear, "Dunno, not mine, go sleep." He yawned again before squirming, it looked like he wanted that bear anyway.

There was a loud crashing sound, followed by several smaller ones...and metal clanging, before everything in the lobby grew silent.

Michael opened his eyes, frowning, "what just happened?" He smacked his lips, leaning back against David and yawning again.

"I think little Sammy was just here, was telling us to come get him. Think he got into the Frog's stash, bet they have one." Dwayne grumbled.

"That'll be fun. Bout time we took care of him…" Marko remarked, glancing down at the teddy bear on the ground. Come to think of it...hadn't he seen that thing tucked away in the fountain before?

David opened one eye, "Paul? Where's your bear?" He smirked darkly at him, still half asleep.

"Shuddap, not mine, fuck you, Davey." He gave him the finger, pouting, wishing he could go back to sleep.

"Gotta have something to fuck, doesn't he? Hasn't been able to pin Marko in months," Dwayne snorted.

Marko grinned before yawning, "Ain't gonna change either." He paused, "Do we really get to go see little Sammy tonight?"

David nodded, "Moment the sun sets, gonna go pay him a visit."

* * *

Sam was nervous. He had literally walked into their lair and called them out. What was he thinking?! Was he stupid? He held a stake in his hand, his fingers clenching around the smooth wood. He needed to be ready, need to take them out for what they did to his mom and grandpa. He took a deep breath, he could do this, had to do this, for mom. He looked up at a clock on the wall and then towards the door. He was propped up in a kitchen chair, ready for anyone the second they stepped through that door...ready to kill.

18 years ago, he'd had his last conversation with Mike, over the phone. Tried to plead with him that they could find a cure, if he'd just leave the boys and go home. But he hadn't listened. He'd hung up on Sam before he could even finish...that was probably the last scrap of his brother, dying with their final phone call. And now Michael was really gone. For some reason or another, he'd just decided now was the right time to finish off the remainders of his old family. Maybe for a game. Maybe because he was bored. Sam wasn't sure, but he had to end this...tonight.

"I'm sorry, Mike. I'm sorry I couldn't save you," Sam said sadly, glancing up at a photograph of his brother on the mantle. Smiling in the sunlight.

He turned away, too caught up in his thoughts to notice the figure in the shadows, to see the hand that lashed out and wrapped around his throat before lifting him up and slamming him into the couch. He flailed, lashing out and trying to get his assailant to release him. But the stake wasn't much good unless he could get it near his attacker's chest. A sense of panic washed over Sam when he met the golden, vicious eyes of his own brother, snarling in his face as he reached over to yank the stake from Sam's hand and sent it skittering across the floor.

"What're you gonna do with that, huh?" Michael hissed, leaning closer and grinning madly. Even more horrifying than his monstrous grimace, he hadn't aged even a day since the last time Sam had seen him. Of course, he'd known Mike wouldn't change...but still...seeing and knowing were two entirely different things.

"I'm gonna drive it into your heart for what you did!" He meant it to sound threatening but it came out as a squeak thanks to the hand around his throat.

Michael snickered...he actually _snickered_. How could he snicker at this?! "Oh yeah? And you know what _I'm_ gonna do to _you_?"

He swallowed hard, "What?"

"This!" Michael let go of Sam's throat and yanked his shirt up, then proceeded to drum the tune to wipe out on his belly until it turned red. "Say uncle!"

Sam screeched, gasping for breath, not expecting this reaction at all. David and the other boys stepped out of the shadows, laughing at him. He felt his face flush red with embarrassment. He was a grown man! Not a kid anymore.

"The great hunter, brought low by wipe out." David smirked, "He's not gonna stop until you do it."

"Uncle!" He gasped for breath, his tummy ached, "Uncle! Fuck, Mike, stop!"

Michael gave him one more good slap to illustrate his point before he jerked Sam's shirt back down and ruffled his hair, "the hell is wrong with you, Sam? What was that shit all about at the hotel, huh?"

He took a deep breath, holding back his tears, "You killed mom and grandpa." He glared at him, "You did it, I know you did. Why? Why would you? How could you?" His hands were clenched into fists as he looked up at the assembled vampires, holding his very sore tummy.

The older Emerson stared at his brother incredulously, at a loss for words. " _I think my brother is a brain dead idiot, guys. Maybe we_ _ **should**_ _put him out of his misery…"_

" _Finally!"_ Paul gave a loud shout of joy, when Michael turned around and punched him in the shoulder as he climbed off of his brother.

Michael dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone, flipping it open and playing the voicemail, glaring at Sam all the while. Then he tossed the phone down on the couch and crossed his arms, "don't you think I would have fucking killed all of you years ago if I'd planned to? Why would we have waited this long, huh? Are you really that stupid?!"

Sam remained silent, frozen in place as he stared at the phone, refusing to respond or even give any indicator he'd heard a word his brother had said. If Michael and the boys hadn't killed them, who did?

"As much as I would love to take credit for this, it's messy, just so...cliche." David rolled his eyes before smelling the air, "It was vampires though, by the way, just not us."

"And we haven't had a good fight in over 50 years, so...probably not our fault, kid," Dwayne shrugged, glancing around. "Unless Max came back...but I seriously doubt it. Fucker's dust is still buried behind the trash cans out back."

"The fight with Max wasn't even that good, weak ass pansy." David paused, "So, we have some vamps encroaching on our territory, taking out Michael's property, just doesn't work for me."

Paul nodded in agreement, "if anyone tears your little ass up, it's Mi-"

Michael punched him in the shoulder again, "don't you ever fucking shut up, Paul?"

David growled at Paul in warning, "Shut up or I'll rip your tongue out and you'll have to spend a week regrowing it."

Marko snickered, biting the thumb of his glove, "so if it's not our fault...doubt it was the old man. Wrinkled bastard didn't even like having us over for tea...don't think it was your mommy's, either…"

Narrowing his eyes, Michael flopped down into a chair directly across from the couch, crossing his hands over his lap, "so...what have _you_ been doing, Sam? Let's do some catch-up, while we figure this out, huh?"

"Weekend hunting, Diana's pissed at me, planned a funeral." Thinking about mom and grandpa made him a little choked up, "I'm teaching English…"

That got Dwayne's attention, "English? Never thought you would wind up teaching English."

He shrugged, "I focused a lot on mythology." He glanced at Michael.

David glared at him, knowing exactly why he focused in mythology, "And how did that work out for you?"

Honestly, it hadn't, but he wasn't about to tell the bleach blonde that, "Worked out fine." He said, glaring in return.

Michael frowned slightly, "so...it's your fault they're dead, then. Pissed a couple of suckers off, and they came around to collect," he was so blunt about it, Sam could hardly believe it. This definitely wasn't the Michael he remembered. But, then again, he'd been killing people for a couple of decades at this point...and they hadn't exactly kept in touch. But...shit...if he was right…

Sam sat up on the couch and put his face in his hands with a sob, "it's those bastards we didn't finish off last time. It's the ones who trashed my house five years ago...the ones Ed warned me about…"

Marko circled around the couch and leaned over, kicking his feet in the air and snickering, "bet you thought it would never come around and bite you in the ass, huh?" He was relishing this. Trying to prod Sam, upset him even more...and it was working all too well.

"Chill out, Marko, stop being a little shit," Michael scowled at him. He was mad at his little brother right now, but that didn't mean he wanted anyone else giving him shit. That was _his_ place, not theirs. "You got old, Sammy," he remarked, eyeing Sam up and down. Jeeze...and _he'd_ look even older now, too. If he'd never met David. Probably be going bald, just like dad was the last time he saw him.

Michael glanced over at David, " _you know who these guys are? They smell weird. Funky..."_ It was hard to describe, and definitely not worth mentioning to Sam. He wouldn't understand, but the smell...it was like the fuckers who'd come by to trash the place bathed in cologne and perfumes to actively cover up the smell that marked them for what they really were. It was like death dipped in flowers and vanilla. Something actively even worse than just the smell of death alone.

" _Reminds me of Max. Remember all that Aqua Velva shit he bathed in? Thought it made him smell more human, didn't he?"_ Dwayne snorted to himself. Trying to cover up your scent was basically just another way of pretending to be human. It didn't make any sense to any of them. But then again, for a vampire at least, none of the _Lost Boys_ were insane. They were exactly what their natures made them: predators.

David looked thoughtful, " _It's odd they would send a message though if they were playing human. Then again, Max is the only one I ever really met that was trying to play at being human."_ He paused, " _Of course if they're nuts...all bets are off."_ If they were dealing with insane human playing vampires it would make them unpredictable, " _As for who they are, no idea."_

Sam looked between them, a little freaked out by the silent conversation going on, "So...you guys psychic or something? You're doing an awful lot of staring at each other…"

"Yes," Dwayne replied stonily.

"You got all kindsa shit bouncing around in that little head of yours…" Paul grinned. "Don't think about your wife's tits. Just try not to…"

He scowled at the vampire, "You're not gonna make me think about her.""

"Wow!" Marko whistled, "bet you like to get down and dirty with those at night…"

Sam sputtered, "I wasn't thinking about her naked, you bastard!" He shouted, hands clenched into fists.

David snickered, "She does have a nice rack on her, see, that's the thing, Sammy boy, kind of hard not to think of something when someone talks about it."

"Kinda weird, first time I meet my sister-in-law, she's banging my little bro…" Michael shook his head, wrinkling his nose in disgust. It wasn't necessarily Sam's mate that turned him off, it was just the other side of the equation. "I think I'm done with _that_ game now, thanks."

David shrugged, "That would do it." He paused, "So, we have us some human acting, foul smelling, vampires to find."

Sam lowered his head, drawing his knees up to his chest, and for all the world looking like he was 14 again. In that moment, Michael actually recognized the twerp he used to be practically connected at the hip with. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't mean for any of this to happen," Sam mumbled. "I was just…" He looked back up at Michael, "I was just trying to make sure nobody else ever had to go through what _we_ did. And yeah, maybe I thought if we managed to dust enough shit-suckers, we'd find a cure for you, too. That's all…and once in awhile, a couple of them got away. They only ever came back once, and I thought we shook them off when we moved...then Ed shows up a few nights ago, freaking out, and he tells me there's a few who're out to get us...I just didn't think..."

"You're still fucking going on about that?!" Michael snapped at him, "you can't cure me, Sam! Even if you could, you think I'd want to live knowing I've murdered hundreds of people?! What the hell is wrong with you?"

David chuckled softly, "Yeah, Sam, we kind of have no conscience, think of the things we do and what it would do to the poor, weak, human, mind." He paused, "Speaking of which, I'm getting hungry, what about you, boys?"

"I could eat," Marko leered at Sam, licking his lips.

"Bleh, too stringy," Paul shook his head.

Michael didn't bother telling them to chill out. Right now, he was mad enough to practically wring his brother's neck without their help. Yeah...feeding was a good idea.

Dwayne surveyed the room, crossing behind the couch. He heard a crunch as his foot stepped on something delicate...kneeling down, he picked up a framed photo of Sam and Michael, "I think they might already know about us." He stated, holding up the photo.

"Well, if they don't know Mikey's one of us, guess they'll find out soon...huh?" Paul grinned.

"The biggest question is, can they figure out where we live." David crossed his arms over his chest, "We need to find them before they find us."

Michael glanced over at his brother, keeping his mouth shut. One word and he knew he'd just snap right now, so he decided to just leave the room and wait for the others to follow. This was the one time in _over twenty years_ he thought keeping ties to his human family was more trouble than it was worth. David followed him, sitting on the porch and pulling him down, looking out into the night as he thought about what exactly they were going to do. Michael was almost reluctant to sit with him.

" _People have seen us together plenty of times. They've actually seen me with mom on the boardwalk. I don't think these guys even know who we are,"_ Michael grumbled, crossing his arms.

" _If they ask around they'll figure it out and if they're playing human they're gonna ask people. I am curious what the new generation says about us, what kind of stories are floatin' around out there."_ He reached up and slid his fingers through his hair, " _I wanna eat your brother."_ He said wistfully.

Michael scowled, " _ask me again when I've calmed down. I'm sure I'll tell you no._ " His eyes slid over to examine David's haircut, " _I liked the mullet more. Something to hold on to."_

He raised an eyebrow, " _Yeah? Don't think this works? Could always grow it back out, it'll take awhile though."_

" _Change sucks. How do you guys get used to it so easy?"_

" _We don't. Takes time, gotta learn to adapt. Think of how many changes I've had to go through and the boys, this is your first one. You get used to it as long as things don't change too drastically. This whole hipster bullshit, I'll never get used to that."_ He paused, " _I wore a fedora once…"_

" _Once?"_

" _Well, like a few years, was the_ in _thing."_ He shrugged, " _Looked good with the outfit."_

Michael shrugged, " _I get that we should change. Really. I do. But...leather's timeless. I don't see why I should change my jacket. I like my jacket. And my hair…" He paused. "...I could go back to wearing my lucky jeans, though, when I find them...that's a change. Where did you fucking hide them, David?_ " Ten years on, the bastard still hadn't told him.

He grinned, " _Leather's perfect, it'll never go out of style."_ He would never tell him where they were, those jeans were falling apart when he finally got them away from Michael, all that skin was for David and only David. He didn't want to run the risk of them finally totally wearing out while they were out riding or harassing the locals.

Marko poked his head outside, "Hey, Mikey...Paul's going through your mom's underwear. You wanna eat first, or beat his ass?"

Michael jumped up and dashed back inside with a growl.

Grinning evilly, Marko hopped out onto the porch and flopped down beside David, "found something," he held out a small card. For a new club opening up downtown. "I think they left this for Sammy to find."

David snagged it, looking it over, "Isn't it Ironic." He read the front of the card, "What's this? Some kind of weird restaurant?"

"Look on the back…" Marko nodded. In small, cursive script...it read ' _an ironic discotech and ironic coffee shop._ _ **Ironic**_ _._ '

" _I don't think they know what ironic is."_

"MIKE, I'VE GOT TO SELL THIS STUFF LATER, DON'T DO THAT TO THE FURNITURE!" Sam yelled from inside, which was followed by an immediate screech from Paul's end.

David sighed and got up, "Michael! Let's go!" He shouted, they had a club to visit, "Bring the runt if you want."


	3. Sending a Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet the baddies. The boys do some re-decorating and leave a message of their own. Ed pays Sam a visit...and so does someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ran - Ed…-shakes head-. Oh...Ed. What will we do with you?
> 
> Kage - Send him to Africa to help the less fortunate.
> 
> Ran - Queue Toto song.

Claire examined her porcelain-white hands, her immaculate clothes, her flawless grasp of the cutting edge of fashion in absolutely every way, while she half-heartedly listened to the young couple sitting across from her at the French bistro-style table on the coffee shop half of her ironic new club...soon to be the toast of Santa Carla, as was every business endeavor she set her mind to.

Marcus sat beside her, bored. He was her first, eldest son of a British duke, and the epitome of what she had always wanted, what she had modeled herself after, and she was good at it. So very pretty. So very perfect...like all of her trinkets and accoutrements. Santa Carla would be one of them, she decided. Had decided the moment they stepped foot there to get a little payback for a very old score they'd had to settle.

"You really don't want to upset them. People mess with the boys, they go missing. Just like that…" The young man said nervously, clinging to his girlfriend beside him. They hadn't been entirely willing guests tonight.

He raised an eyebrow, "Really?" He looked at Claire, "Can you believe this? It sounds so...farfetched, don't you think?" He paused, rolling his eyes, "The boys, what makes them so...exceptional? What is it that makes you so afraid of them?" He asked, leaning his elbows on the table.

The girl laughed nervously, "well...there was this guy I knew...I think he knocked one of their bikes over...and the next morning, they found him on the beach. Dead. The gluten-free bagel and Starbucks coffee he was holding were still _warm_!"

"How could they still be warm?"

"I think...I think they worship demons," the man whispered. "They probably made some kind of pact with the devil years ago…so anyone they sacrifice...anything they're holding...it'd still be warm, right?"

Marcus barely held back a snort of derision, "How long have they been here?"

The couple exchanged a terrified look, before glancing back at the painfully fashionable people in front of them, "nobody remembers," they whispered at once. "But...they _never_ change…"

"Enough," Claire waved an arm and signaled to a server nearby. "Take them to the back room. Show them the grinders. I'm sure they'll love learning about our special blends," she sighed, rubbing at her temples. "Just another silly story, something to make the idiots here feel like they've got something special," she shook her head at Marcus. "Have you seen any of these 'Lost Boys' yet, Marcus?" She'd sent him here to track down and deal with their little message a few days before, so she'd yet to really explore much of the city just yet.

"No, I've seen their bikes but nothing else. I think we need to observe them for ourselves. Surely they're still around if the stories keep proliferating through the years and perhaps we can discern the truth for ourselves."

The server lead the poor couple away, unaware of the dastardly fate the club owner and her compatriot had in store for them…

* * *

The flight of steps that led them down to the bowels of the ironic coffee shop/discotech was dank and cold, the stone steps dripping with slime...which was pretty odd, considering they were not only on a boardwalk, but the business had only been set up for about a week. The idea that there would have been any time or space for something like this was almost incomprehensible. Still, Jane and John clung to each other all the more. Somehow, neither of them truly believed they were about to take a tour of the coffee grinding facility. For one...what sort of coffee shop would have a room completely devoted to grinding coffee?

"Can't trust any of em…" The server grunted, holding his flashlight above his head like a torch as they descended...which was definitely odd. Didn't quite help them see what was ahead of them, just the ceiling.

"Excuse me?" Jane asked, squinting in the dark. Seriously, why wasn't there a light switch in here?

The server drew to a stop in front of them and lowered his shoulders, pausing long enough for them to think he'd gone brain dead, before he finally spoke up again, " _vampires_. Can't trust any of em…" He repeated, glaring back at her, smoothing the tail his pink headband over his shoulder and letting it drape behind him on his retro silk uniform vest. "You're lucky I'm here...gonna make sure those grinders aren't the last thing you ever see. Been hiding with these guys for a couple of days now...they don't know who they messed with..."

John looked back at his girlfriend, holding her even closer. Dear god...this guy was _nuts_!

* * *

The boys filed out, heading to find their meal for the night. Dwayne was first, and much like a vindictive cat, he shoved the brand new flat screen TV over, staring at Sam as he did it.

"That's for the chandelier. You're fucking lucky that's all I broke." He threatened, there were a lot of things he'd like to break, "Michael's so sentimental he wouldn't let any of us off easy if we broke _you._ "

Sam stared at the mess, dumbfounded. He had a lot to clean up...in the house...and in his life. This was just one more to add to the ever-growing list. What's more, it was all his fault. He tensed his jaw, his decision made. He'd find the bastards who killed mom and grandpa. He'd make sure he offed every last one of them...even if it meant he was going to die in the process. But first, he'd have to make a call to Diana.

"Go home to your wife, Sam." David stated as he walked past him, heading toward his bike, "I'll never hear the end of it if you off yourself."

Michael paused by his brother, scowling at him. "We're going to take care of this. It's out of your hands now. If I find out you've been fucking around, making it _even worse_...it's going to take a hell of a lot more than a bit of reminiscing to keep me from beating the hell out of you, Sam. I don't care how old you are now." He followed David to their bikes, and as Sam watched him leave...he struggled to see anything of his old brother in the ageless teenager outside. There was hardly anything left. Honestly, even if he found a cure...what was there to save?

* * *

David sighed, standing in front of the door to the club. They were closed. How the hell could it be closed? It wasn't even that late yet.

"What the fuck?" Marko shook the door, trying to get it open, "Come on! I want ironic coffee!"

"Isn't it ironic you're not getting any?" Michael paused, "that's...that's how this logic works, right? I'm still not sure how that word works for these guys…"

David pulled out his lock-pick, sometimes he liked to break into places without them knowing he was ever there. Not that he couldn't just break their necks if they caught him, but there was some fun in playing games like this once in awhile. He crouched down, starting to fiddle with the lock.

Paul crouched down behind him, "What cha doin'?"

David growled at him softly, "What's it look like I'm doing?"

"Here! Let me do that for you!" The next thing David knew he was jumping back as Paul grabbed Marko and threw him through the glass door, "So much easier."

Marko shouted, tumbling to the ground with a groan, and then jerking his head up as he dusted bits of glass powder from his hair, "you asshole!" He shouted, climbing to his feet...and then broke into a small, sneaky grin…"let's do that again!"

"Sure," Dwayne shrugged, grabbing Paul by his shoulders and shoving him through the other glass door with just as much gusto as had been applied to poor Marko.

Michael squinted through the wreckage, stepping inside and squeezing past the somewhat dazed Paul and cackling Marko, "nice digs," he remarked, surveying the building. "What do you guys wanna do now? Gotta do something while the coffee brews, don't we?"

"This place needs some music." David declared, looking for their stereo system as he stepped inside, listening to the glass crunch under his boots. He paused, "And some redecorating."

"Definitely smells like the right place," Dwayne observed coolly, pulling Paul to his feet and dusting off the back of the rocker's jacket. "Bet we can make it smell better."

Michael wrinkled his nose, "ugh...we're not doing _that_ again are we?" Paul and Marko tended to go a little overboard when it came to... _that_. Ruined his boots last time.

David shrugged, "I'm not doing it, up to them if they want to." He finally found the stereo, flipping it on and immediately turning it off, "What the fuck? What kind of shit are they listening to?"

"I'm cool with that," Paul laughed, "mine smells better anyway. Bet I can do it way better than you, Davey...so you just sit this one out, huh? Have yourself some tea, wear a dress, maybe throw a little tupperware party…"

David grabbed him by the back of the neck, "How about I just piss on you then?"

Rolling his eyes, Michael strode over towards the pair to examine the stereo. "...Trojans?" He smirked, "that sounds kinky…"

"Doesn't sound like Disco, though...isn't this supposed to be a disco?" Dwayne called out, picking up an over-stuffed pillow from an easy chair in the corner and idly shredding it with his claws. Chunks of memory foam flew everywhere.

"Maybe it's ironic?" Marko suggested.

"I think I'm already starting to hate that word," Michael trailed off, flipping the song on and concentrating as he listened. "...Who dances to this shit?"

David glanced over, "No idea who could dance to this, no beat, no rhythm, it's just...noise."

Michael quickly flipped the music off, "anybody bring a cd with them?"

"So...you said something about a bet earlier, Pauley…" Marko snickered.

"And have Davey piss on me? No thanks! That stuff's like acid…" Paul shook his head, trying to pry David's hand from the back of his neck.

David kept him pinned, "Gonna be a good boy?" He smirked, "Or do I have to show you who's boss?"

"I promise, mommy," Paul replied with an innocent smile, batting his eyelashes.

David chuckled, pulling off him and heading to see what Michael was doing, "Good."

Michael was idly flicking buttons off of the stereo with his claw, "I don't know what pisses me off more, the fact that those fuckers killed _my_ family, or the fact that we can't deal with them _tonight._ "

"I think it's a little of both, especially the inability to deal with them tonight."

Paul was already out on the dance floor at the opposite side of the building, ensuring no man-made mop could ever eliminate all signs they'd been here, "anybody smell corn chips?" He tossed over his shoulder, "I smell corn chips…"

"Yeah, it's you, dumbass." Dwayne rolled his eyes, looking through their stock of alcohol, "They've got shit for options." He tossed a bottle of cheap ass vodka over the counter, "Hey, Michael, "Wanna write a message in blood to get back at them for the one they left?"

Shrugging, Michael knocked the stereo over and watched it smash on the ground, "bit melodramatic, isn't it? Bit of a waste, too…" He paused. "Hey, Marko, you got any lighter fluid in your jacket? I know you used some last week on that homeless guy…"

Marko nodded, pulling out the small squeezy bottle, "Here." He tossed it to him, "What cha gonna do with it? Can I watch?"

Michael shrugged, nodding over at Paul, "hey...Paulie...spell a message out for me, wouldja?" He grinned, tossing the squeezy bottle in his hand. The lighter fluid would start the fire. The marking would make it smell...but they'd have to beat it the fuck out of there real fast if they didn't want to burn their nose hairs off afterwards.

"They're going to come after your brother when we finish this, you know," Dwayne remarked, heading behind the counter and doing a bit of his own marking. Paul didn't get to have _all_ the fun.

Sure, David said he wasn't going to do any marking, but hey, time to join the fun. He went to another corner while Paul went over to Michael, "What do you want spelled out?"

"I don't know...something like 'we'll finish it for you', or 'it's only just begun'...or…" Michael scratched his head...he really wasn't good at clever quips unless he was talking shit. "Come up with something. Surprise me."

Marko's face fell, "Davey...why did you mate with a dumbass?"

"Fuck you, Marko." Michael growled, flipping him the bird.

David growled at him, "How about write that, fuck you, come and get it."

"Can we make it shorter?" Paul called out, "starting to run on empty over here…"

"Why don't you do the honors, Davey?" Marko snickered, biting the thumb of his glove, "you're in charge, after all."

"This is not a conversation I ever expected to be having…" Dwayne remarked, shaking his head as he zipped up his pants.

David rolled his eyes, "Fine." and went to take care of it himself. It took a little bit to get it done, well, time and a bottle of rum.

"Don't worry, mom, I'll avenge you...David's going to piss all over a coffee shop for me tonight," Michael rolled his eyes as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. This was bordering on the ridiculous. But...it _was_ pretty funny.

"An _ironic_ coffee shop," Paul added helpfully.

David chuckled, finishing up, "Alright, start us a fire! Let's see how long it takes them to figure this shit out."

"I'm telling you, that corn chip smell wasn't me," Paul insisted, sidling up beside David. "And yours smells 10x worse than mine, Davey."

"Isn't that the point?" Marko laughed, finishing his own little bit of marking in the corner. By the time they were all done, the place...well, they'd have a lot more to worry about later than just flies. They'd get a couple of health code violations slapped on them, too. Even Michael reluctantly joined in, as disgusting as it was. And that had nothing to do even remotely with a lingering sense of humanity...it just smelled _really_ bad.

* * *

It was late afternoon...when _he_ showed up…Sam was sifting through grandpa's taxidermy stuff when the door was pushed open and Edgar walked inside, looking a little sheepish. Sam looked over at him, "Ed...What're you doing here?" Part of him was glad to see him though, they needed to take out these vampires, screw David and Michael and their fake concern, he had to do it.

"Sam...I think we've got a _big_ problem. You remember how I said they were going to come back and bite us in the ass if-" He paused, looking around him. "Your grandpa redecorating?"

Sam glared at him, "Grandpa's dead and so is mom." His anger was the only reason he wasn't crying. He looked down at the TV, "But those asshole Lost Boys killed the TV."

"Dear god…" Edgar grunted, digging a rosary out of his pocket and squeezing it in one fist, "did they finally come and off the folks? Those bloodsucking _bastards_...I knew we shoulda staked them when we had the chance!"

He shook his head, "No, it wasn't them…"

Edgar nodding, understanding, "I see. So…" Actually, no...he didn't really understand. "Was there a gas leak or something?" He looked around warily, holding his nose. Even if he knew very well there were vampires with their names on a kill list, Edgar still had a lot of trouble making simple connections. He'd always been like that, though.

"No, you idiot! It was those assholes, the ones that trashed my house!" His hands clenched into fists, "I'm going to kill them."

"Well...it's about time you got with the program, Sam. Listen, I know what it's like to lose a brother. What it's like to lose the only family you have anymore...When Alan got killed, I thought I'd never recover. But I got right out there again to fight for truth, justice, and the American way...If we want to ash these sons of bitches, we're going to have to do this together." He stepped forward and clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder, "I'm here for you, man."

He could accept that, he'd need help, and Michael had made it clear he would be pissed if Sam got involved. He should have known that wasn't going to stop him, "Thanks, man." He paused, "I got someone coming to look at some of grandpa's taxidermy stuff, mind helping me clean up a bit before they get here?"

Edgar's lip twitched nervously, "uh...who? Who's coming to look?"

He shrugged, "I dunno, guys name is Al I think, was the first name in grandpa's book." He scowled, "Why're you freaked out?" He shoved the TV out of the way, getting a dustpan and broom, holding it out to Edgar, "Here, sweep."

Laughing nervously, Edgar took the broom, "Al...huh? And...did you talk to him on the phone much? I mean, did he sound familiar at all? Not that I...not that I'd know who he is, of course. Because I don't. So, he's a taxidermist, huh? That's cool…" Edgar grunted, quickly sweeping at the floor like mad, not really paying attention to exactly what he was sweeping, and ultimately spreading more dirt and dusted glass about than he was cleaning.

Sam decided that Edgar must have gone insane, "Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?" He rolled his eyes, hearing a car drive up, "I'm gonna go see if that's him. You keep cleaning."

"Cleaning...yeah…I'll do that," Edgar cleared his throat several times as he watched Sam head to the door. Then, with one quick calculating move, he dropped the broom and dashed to the back of the house, throwing himself through one of the broken windows and falling into the backyard with a rather impressive tumble. He'd come back later when Sam cooled down…

The moment he stepped outside and saw who was getting out of the old jeep he froze, "A-Alan?" Was it a ghost? Had he finally snapped too?

Alan looked over at him with a raised brow, shrugging on his denim jacket and shoving a wallet into his pocket from inside the car. His sunglasses were thick and dark enough to blind a horse, "read about your grandpa in the paper. Sorry to hear about what happened…" And he spoke as if he had no idea he was supposed to be buried 6-feet-under. He turned around just in time to see his brother dash from around the house and throw himself into his beat-up volkswagen before powering off.

"...That dipshit told you I was dead, didn't he?" Alan asked, frowning.

He sputtered, mouth opening and closing, " **EDGAR! YOU SON OF A BITCH!** "


	4. Glass Half Empty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alan explains a few things to Sam. The boys drag very little info out of a terrified Edgar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ran - Okay, even I'm pissed off at Edgar now. It's a wonder they haven't killed him yet...why haven't they killed him yet?
> 
> Kage - I say comic relief but they might off him after this.

"They really did a number on this place," Alan remarked, kneeling down and scooping up an armful of shredded papers to toss into a garbage can he'd carried into the living room. "And all this was from those suckers who trashed your house back in '07?" He found it hard to believe, really. The vampires they used to hunt weren't really that...smart? Or...patient?

He shrugged, sweeping up some glass, "That's what I think it is, it has to be." He paused, looking at Alan, "Why'd he say you were dead?"

"Ah…" Alan rubbed the back of his head, "you remember about three years ago when you went camping with the folks, and Ed got it in his head that we needed to make a little trip of our own?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I remember. Ed came back and said you died."

"Yeah." Alan lowered his sunglasses, revealing a very tired pair of eyes, "he told our parents, too. And my landlord. _And_ he contacted my bank, my girlfriend, pretty much any and every person I was associated with to break the news." He shoved the sunglasses back up higher on the bridge of his nose and yawned, covering his mouth. "Sorry...not used to being up this early these days." Shaking his head, Alan scooped up a broken picture frame with Michael and Sam's photo in it. He glanced over at Sam and gingerly peeled the picture out, offering it to him, "you wanna save this, right?"

He nodded, taking it, "You got turned." He could recognize the signs now, he was half, "Here I thought you were gonna kill each other if one got turned. You took up taxidermy instead?"

"Actually, I was already doing a bit of freelance taxidermy before, but pretty much. Your grandpa was the only person left Ed hadn't tried to ruin my life with, so I hopped on back here and got a little bit of help from him settling in. Worked out pretty well for a few years...gotta say, seeing things from the other side definitely made me grow up a bit. Granted, probably should've fucking done that before I was 35 god damned years old, but...come on, Sam. With a brother like mine?" He shook his head. "Probably a good thing I got away from him for a bit."

He tucked the picture in his coat pocket, "I decided to stop looking for a cure." He said softly, "I saw Mike, talked with him, he...umm...he's changed so much." He sighed, "What about you?"

Alan nodded, "there's not a cure, anyway." He sat down on the couch with a sigh, "you mind if I just relax for a bit? This is taking a lot out of me…" He leaned forward, putting his head in his hands and groaning.

Sam nodded, "Go ahead."

"Every day and every night is a waking nightmare," Alan finally said into his hands, voice slightly muffled. "I get a bit of a break with animal blood I get from hunting down projects and extra trips to the butcher...but it tastes like shit. I have to stay away from people for the most part, because I get massive mood swings that'll eventually make me snap one of these days if I'm not careful. Gotta sleep most of the day...I know the fucker who forced his blood on me just wanted me to go insane as some sort of sick payback, and eventually I'm going to lose this fight, Sam." He paused. "And Ed _wouldn't_ kill me. I'm not the one who broke our pact... _he_ is."

Sam swallowed hard, "Do you...do you want to die? If you make your kill, what happens? Mike seems okay, I mean, he's different but he's still Mike." He sat down across from Alan in grandpa's chair.

Alan dropped his hands and looked over at Sam with a dry half-smirk, "if I make my kill, that's the end game, Sam. I don't want to die at all...and that's the funny thing about it. Before this, I was pretty much willing to drink poison if I knew I'd get turned. But something about the blood...it broke me. I can't kill myself...I just...I can't. The day I turn, someone's going to hunt me down, and I don't doubt it'll be your brother or the rest of his pack...because I've got _no one_ , Sam. If there's anything I've learned through our bullshit hunting years, it's that a shit-sucker needs a pack. Or they go nuts...hell, I think I'm already halfway there anyway." He yawned, pulling his legs up onto the couch and leaning to the side.

"They wouldn't take you in? Mike and the boys? Why would Mike want to hunt you down? I'm sorry Alan, this is just...shitty. Is there anything I can do? Do you know who turned you?"

"I don't know how to explain this...even if I did want to spend eternity with a bunch of fucking teenagers...they'd rip my head off and play soccer with it the first chance they got. I'm not one of _them_. They're not people. They don't just 'adopt' random babies if they feel bad for them, Sam. Fuck...we don't even share the same bloodline. The fact that they haven't already killed me for being half, and for the shit we pulled back in highschool... _multiple_ times? That's their definition of being nice. This isn't my territory. I don't have a right to be here the day I make a kill...are you following any of this?" Alan yanked his sunglasses off and shoved them into his jacket pocket, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His voice was starting to slur...he'd pushed himself too far today as it was.

"Yeah, I get it. Hey, get some sleep, I'll close up the blinds for you, alright?" He got up, moving to close the blinds so he could rest.

"Don't know the one who bit me…" Alan called out, his eyes fluttering closed, "gone...long gone...can't track him down…" And then he was out.

Sam vowed to find him, he had to, had to save Alan because even though he couldn't save Mike, he could save someone...After he convinced Diana to let him come home. One step at a time.

* * *

No cops. No vampires. No people. Somebody had swept up the glass surrounding the doors that morning, but that was about it. And anyone who may have gone inside out of curiosity wouldn't have stuck around long, given the scene. Odd. You'd think at least one person would have made a report...but the police in the area tended to avoid things unless they were directly called. Nobody had called them, apparently...

"Three hours. We've been waiting out here for _three hours._ They're not coming," Marko grumbled crossing his arms. They'd parked in their usual spots, practically made an announcement as much as they'd revved their engines tonight...even Paul had walked back and forth in front of that weird club multiple times to get their attention. And...nothing.

David rolled his eyes, looking around, "And this is where I wonder if they're afraid of us."

"Maybe we just didn't make the best impression." Dwayne replied, "I think we should make a bigger one, maybe send Paul in to piss on their leader."

Michael laughed. The situation wasn't funny, but the way they were talking about it sure was, "do we have any ideas that _don't_ involve buckets of urine? Why is this the go-to solution?"

"It works, why change it?" Dwayne asked, shrugging, "We could go paint their walls with tourists but they might like that."

Marko grinned, "why don't we just bust in, Western style? Start a fight...shoot 'em up…Or like Scarface, y'know?"

"Yeah, that's not going to make the locals decide to finally hunt us down," Dwayne snorted.

"Better than pissing everywhere…" Marko grumbled.

"We could keep an eye on them...wait until we get him cornered...that'd make a better impression, don't you think?" Michael suggested.

"You might be on to something there, Michael." David looked thoughtful, his gaze moving back to the club, "They'd better show up soon though, I want them to know what we did, I want them to know it was us."

Outside, a familiar figure rushed past them...covering his face. But there was no mistaking that trailing headband as he headed right in the direction of the club. Edgar Frog...dressed like a blast from the past. Bellbottoms and silk shirt all in one. The look did _not_ work.

David narrowed his eyes, " _Is that...It is! It's that little wannabe hunter who's brother is a halfling."_ He grinned, " _So, he gets to be the first one to see our handywork, no way, I want those vamps to show up, someone make sure he doesn't make it in there."_

Paul skipped away from their bikes before Michael lashed forward to grab him by the back of the collar, " _no. My turn this time._ " Michael shook his head, "can't let you have all the fun, Paul."

David smirked, leaning against his bike, he couldn't wait to see this, "Alright, all you."

Sighing, Paul nodded, " _told you guys I smelled corn chips,_ " he remarked, crossing his arms as Michael strolled away, hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

" _Over twenty years on, you'd think he'd have discovered deodorant by now,_ " Dwayne wrinkled his nose. _Humans_ didn't have a reason to flaunt their natural scents. Especially the kind who smelled as funky as just about every member of that Frog family.

" _Saved them a few times, though, didn't it? Remember when we used to stop by for dinner with Mikey's little family, and Pauly almost ate them?_ " He gagged, " _bet they taste even worse than they smell_."

" _They're disgusting although I think I smelled his brother around. He's got some sense at least, doesn't reek like his brother."_ David rolled his eyes, " _Natural vampire repellent."_ He chuckled softly, " _Smell bad enough and even the dead won't eat you."_

Michael and Edgar Frog were talking now. They looked fairly calm, too. Didn't look like the smelly wannabe was even surprised to see him.

"What do you think they're saying?" Marko leaned forward, not able to pick up much. They were just far enough for their voices to be drowned out by the crowd.

"Let's see...oh, I know…" Paul cleared his throat, "Froggy...I've been waiting for you all my life. Now that I'm here with you, outside this ironic coffee shop club...I want us to run away together and bang like bunnies before Davey catches us. There's something about that corn chippy funk you got going on…the way you flip your sash...your grunting and stake-waving..." Paul lowered his voice, huskily whispering, "it's all so... _erotic_."

David smacked Paul upside the head, "Fucker, god damn asshole." He growled lowly, that was his mate, his! He glared at Paul, he was going to make sure he suffered for this. Maybe he'd start with his stash and go from there, he had found his new hiding place a few months ago and had been waiting for him to get mouthy again, well, now was the perfect time.

By now, Edgar was wildly gesticulating, pointing to the building, out to the street...no doubt giving some kind of stupid speech. He seemed like the type. All the while, Michael remained calm...didn't even pull his hands out of his pockets.

"He's not doing anything," Dwayne remarked flatly. "Would've at least expected some kind of threat by now…"

They all scowled, watching intently before David finally had enough and strolled over to see what was going on, "Well, if it isn't a froggy." He slung an arm around Michael's shoulders, "What're you doing on our turf, little froggy?"

"Look," Edgar grunted, narrowing his eyes, "I already told your friend here...I'm undercover. Trying to do a stake-out while I figure out what makes these bastards tick. Been tracking them for months. I've got a lot of eggs in this basket, and I'm not going after you shit-suckers right now, alright?" The mouth. The gall. The brain. The _only_ thing keeping Edgar Frog alive right now was the fact that he continuously threw them for a ridiculous loop every five years he seemed to pop back up in town.

David raised an eyebrow, "I think he's forgotten your name, Michael, what do you think?" He paused, "Well, let me tell you something, Eddie, no one has shown up yet and they'd better get here soon, you're not going to be the first one to see our little surprise so butt out." He showed his teeth, "What's in there, it's not for you."

Edgar scowled. "They're not coming back for another week. They only open up one hour on one night a week...to keep it exclusive. I think they said it was ironic. I was just going to give the door a holy oil bath."

Michael turned towards David, bewildered, " _I think these guys are nuts. Ed just told me they can't even read minds...they walk around dressed like that crazy snack back at the store, they drink from 'bottles', and they don't even know we're vampires. They're going with a ghost theory right now, apparently…_ " He frowned. "I am...so confused."

He scowled, "Well...what the fuck?" He wasn't sure what to think, "Those assholes won't be back for a week? Fuck."

Edgar continued, as if he wasn't facing two bloodthirsty predators right now, who'd both been put into an even worse mood than they would have been already, "that's why I've been tracking them so long. They never stay in one place for more than a day at a time...but now I've finally got their patterns down, see?"

"And where do they live? Figured that out yet?" David bit out, pissed, "They need to get their asses back here so they can see the present we left."

"They live on a boat…" Edgar stepped back from them, warily, "why? Did you leave them a housewarming gift?" He paused. "ARE YOU ABOUT TO JOIN UP TOGETHER?!" He screamed in horror.

"Why the fuck would we join with someone who invaded _our_ territory? Are you stupid? Of course we left them the best housewarming gift, they just need to get their asses over here." He paused, "Call them. Looks like you work here, call them, tell them the door windows are broken." He motioned toward the broken windows.

Edgar looked back at the broken doors, then back at David and Michael, then back at the doors...then back at David and Michael. He repeated this several more times before Michael finally lost it, "HURRY UP!" He angrily dug into his jacket pocket and shoved a pair of sunglasses over his eyes, on the verge of slipping. Talking to Edgar Frog in public was just...a bad idea. All around. They should have had Dwayne do this.

Quickly pulling out his phone, Edgar mashed a couple of buttons, "uh...hello?" He mumbled into the receiver. "Doors are broken. You should come down here...Edgar. Edgar Frog. Yeah...I work for you. I'm the waiter. Yeah. Edgar...Edgar Frog… _Frog_. With an F..."

"Do I have to do everything myself?" David growled softly, grabbing the phone from him and holding it to his ear, "Doors are busted and it looks like someone left you a present." He hung up, handing the phone back, "That's how you do it, asswipe."

Edgar nodded, "yeah...when they check their voicemail in three days, they'll definitely come down."

David's lip pulled back in a snarl, he was close to losing it and he prided himself on keeping his cool, "And what kind of instructions did they give you when they hired you on what to do if there was a robbery?"

"Uh…" Edgar cleared his throat. Then he did it a second time. Then he looked back at the broken doors...then he looked back at Michael and David...Then Michael grabbed him by the collar and pulled him forward, "what the fuck is wrong with you?! Why can't you answer a simple question?!"

"THEY DIDN'T TELL ME ANYTHING, OKAY!? THEY NEVER TELL ANYONE ANYTHING!" Edgar shouted, struggling in Michael's grasp, and then looking back at David...then looking back at Michael...then craning his head to look back at the broken doors.

At a few nervous looks from passersby, Michael quickly released Edgar's collar and smoothed his hair back, "I think I need to take a break...I'm about to lose it," he growled, stomping off back towards the others.

"Get out of here before I wring your neck, you're lucky that we've let you live as long as we have." He snarled lowly.

As Edgar took off, he dug into his pants pocket to pull out a small vial of holy oil. He'd wanted to get this over with tonight...but he'd probably have to come back in the morning and take care of it. This would have been a hell of alot easier if Alan was still with him. But now the bastard wouldn't even return his phone calls...and he didn't know _why_. Frankly, he would have stayed undercover a lot longer if the Lost Boys didn't live in Santa Carla...or if he'd learned more than a few details here and there from the shit-suckers he was working for. Funny thing was, unless they were eating, they acted as if they were 100% human...even for Ed, that was a bit of a mind trip.


	5. Mitch is a Terrible Guard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David takes out his stress on Paul. Haircuts ensue. Sam gets to know a little more about Alan, and thinks about Mike while he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ran - David? Vindictive? I'm shocked that you would even imply such a thing!
> 
> Kage - David's the perfect gentleman, you take that back!

David was pissed and that was putting it mildly. Paul had been a dick the entire hunt and wouldn't shut up on the way back to the hotel. He just kept running his mouth, it was time to deal with him. The blonde rocker was having a verbal sparring match with Marko while David went after his stash. Paul thought he was so clever, hiding it in one of the back rooms in the hotel. The room was still mostly intact, the furniture rotted from time and lack of care, but there was one thing in the room that looked out of place. A potted plant. David had heard Paul whispering to it one night when he brought it home, called it Mitch, before running off to the back room, paranoid someone was going to take it from him.

He had hidden the drugs around the plant like Christmas presents. There was a pitcher of water on the floor next to the plant, he could do a two for one, take out the one thing he actually took care of. No, he wouldn't do that but it was an idea for later. He carefully gathered up all of the drugs, stuffing the little baggies into his pockets so he could carry more, before heading outside to the cliffs overlooking the ocean. He then proceeded to dump the contents of the baggies into the water. Some lucky shark out there was going to be a paranoid mother fucker before the night was over. With his task complete he headed back inside, stopping off at his own little hiddy hole to snag the placebos he had acquired over the years, a few of them were heavy duty tranquilizers while the rest just looked like the rest of Paul's drugs. He put them into place before returning to the main room with the others.

Michael was kicking back on the ground tossing a worn-out baseball in the air when David re-joined them, and he couldn't help but give his mate a funny look, " _what did you just do?"_ He _knew_ that look. Something was definitely up.

David grinned at him, " _I just went and took care of our little problem."_ He smiled, " _I think you'll like it."_

Rolling his eyes, Michael just went back to tossing his baseball. He was sure whatever David did, they were about to hear about it. He hadn't been gone long enough to hassle a meal, so chances were it had something to do with one of the boys. Fuck it, as long as it wasn't _him_ , Michael didn't really give a shit. Then again, David wasn't prone to do things to Michael, well, at least not prank related. Granted, there was that _one_ time...he scowled and looked back over at David, pausing mid-throw and catching the baseball, " _did you fuck with my weight set again?"_

David chuckled softly, " _Don't worry, I didn't do anything to any of your stuff, you're safe."_ He paused, " _Mitch on the other hand…"_ There, that should be enough of a hint.

"You fucker!" Marko snarled, shoving Paul off of the arm of the couch and holding a hand to the back of his head. Paul had just snuck up on him with a pair of scissors and snipped his braids.

"What did I do?" Paul asked innocently, dropping the ratty locks on the ground behind him and kicking them under the couch as he regained his footing. Dwayne eyed the scissors with alarm and quietly jumped away from the couch with his book tucked under his arm, scooting across the room and stepping over Michael so he could sit down on the edge of the fountain and keep an eye out for Paul in case he decided anyone else needed a new cut, too. Anybody touched Dwayne's mane...they died. No joking around. He would not _hesitate_ to murder Paul.

"Hey, we're all trying to make changes, ain't we?" Paul snickered and backed away as Marko hopped up, cracking his knuckles.

David cringed, "Yeah, you touch Dwayne and I think he's going to murder you." He paused, "I think it looks good Marko, maybe trim it up a little bit." He grinned, "Hey, Paul, give me those scissors, Marko's gonna look like an idiot if we don't even it up a little."

Marko spun back towards David, narrowing his eyes, "if you give me a stupid cut, so help me, Davey…" He grumbled, reaching back to yank the scissors away from Paul before stomping towards him.

David nodded, "Don't worry, got my anger out already." He set about evening it out, making it actually look good.

Paul shrugged, "some people have no sense of gratitude," he sighed as he skipped out of the lobby, whistling a tune.

The bleach blonde grinned, watching him leave, "Mouthy bastard." He paused, "Just wait until he gets back."

"At least he keeps things interesting," Michael remarked, sitting up and tossing his baseball into the fountain behind him. It clattered amidst the wreckage of the chandelier. Sam had really done a number on it...the evidence, a hammer, was left behind to proclaim his guilt.

"I'm still pissed about that." Marko grumbled as David did one last cut, "I want my chandelier back. He looked at Michael, "Can't we kill him, please?"

"Nope." Michael climbed to his feet and sat down on the edge of the fountain beside Dwayne, "your ears look bigger...are they growing?" He grinned, eyeing David's handywork. "Never realized how much you look like a monkey until now…"

Dwayne nodded, crossing his arms, "now that you mention it…"

Their leader rolled his eyes, "Looks better I think." He scowled, really wanting Paul to come back, "Maybe we should cut Paul's hair too."

"Shave it," Marko grumbled. "Shave it all off…"

"Nah, I think we can do better than that." Dwayne grinned, "Mohawk."

"We got some kool aid packets around here somewhere...maybe give him a little bit of pink and green to go with it?" Michael suggested. Why they had kool aid packets...he hadn't a clue. Things kind of collected over the years from their meals. Sometimes they'd take things because they liked them, and sometimes...hell...why not?

Paul strolled back into the room with an empty baggie, tossing it behind him and grinning as he crossed around the couch, "hey Marko...you kinda look like a monkey!" He cackled to himself as if he'd just made the world's wittiest remark, and now he was going to bask in the afterglow of his own cleverness...mixed with a little bit of happy time candy.

David leaned back, settling onto the couch, motioning for Michael to join him, eyes locked on Paul, "So, Paul, we were thinking, you need a haircut too."

"Me? Naaaaaaah," Paul shook his head, flopping down on the side of the fountain with a relaxed smile just as Michael hopped up and crossed over to the couch, sitting down beside David.

"I dunno, Marko looks better with it cut, Michael misses my mullet though, not much I can do about that, but I think you'd look good, take some of that length off."

Paul jabbed himself in the chest with his thumb, "this 'do is classic! You don't mess with a classic, man. It took me like...sixty years to find this style. I'm not getting rid of it."

"Bet it'll take another sixty to find a new one." He rolled his eyes, "It's not gonna work for another sixty years."

Marko stood behind David's wheelchair, patting it, "c'mon, Pauly...Davey'll even let you use his chair while he gets you fixed up. It'll grow back…"

"You look like shit no matter what you do to your hair, anyway," Dwayne supplied helpfully.

"Come on, Paul, take your drugs, sit in my chair and we'll get this done." David hoped he would take the tranquilizers.

Frowning, Paul dug into one of his pockets and procured another small baggy, "something's funny 'bout these...not working…" He sighed, downing the whole bag, "maybe a couple more…" He mumbled, crumpling the plastic up and tossing it to the ground before looking back over at David, "just a trim, alright? Just...a trim."

"Of course, just a trim." He grinned, getting up and moving over to behind his chair, waiting for Paul to take a seat, "Take one of the blue ones." He said, looking down at the baggie in his hand. The blue ones would knock him out.

"Good i-" Paul paused as he pulled out yet another baggie, "...why?" He looked up at David suspiciously.

"Blue's his favorite color," Michael replied dryly. Knowing Paul...well, he wasn't the brightest.

"..." Paul looked back down at the baggie, then back up at David…and shrugged, digging out three blue pills and popping them in one go.

David's smile grew as he began cutting, starting with just a trim, like he said, but paying attention to that moment when the pills would take effect. It didn't take long for Paul to pass out, there was no warning, no signs of drowsiness, he was just gone.

"Finally." David grinned, "This is double the fun, drugs fucked with and a new haircut." He cut, swaths of blonde hair falling to the floor of the hotel, "I thought about adding viagra in there."

"Why? So his hair would stand up?" Marko snickered.

"That'd be a bit much, David. Even for Paul," Michael just shook his head, smirking. After the night they'd had, this was just the thing to blow off a bit of steam. Too bad for Paul, though. But he'd kinda been asking for it. And if Michael had heard the gag he'd been making about Edgar...he'd be doing half the cutting himself.

"I replaced all his drugs, thought about doing something to Mitch too but decided against it, this is better." He cut off another chunk, "So, what hairstyle should we go with? I think hacking it off short is good enough, no matter what we do he's gonna hate it." He cut off another, leaving it uneven around his shoulders.

"Gotta make a choice soon, not gonna be much left if you keep going," Dwayne raised an eyebrow. "Give him a shag...like a chick."

"Rat tail," Marko said moodily, touching the spot where his braids used to hang. This was one of the many nights he really wished he had a reflection.

Michael glanced down at the small pile of hair that had collected around David's feet, slightly nervous, "do whatever you want, just keep those fucking things away from me."

"Shag it is!" He grinned, working quickly, he wasn't sure how long those drugs would keep Paul out. When he was finished he put Paul in the middle of the room on display, "Don't worry, Michael, I like your hair too much to hack it off. If it's too short there's nothing for me to grab on to."

Dwayne looked back down at his book, having lost interest in their current game, "what do you want to do about that little problem tomorrow? Catch up with Sammy, or go on a little hunt?" He hated to think that they were going to have to bring the party to them if the fuckers weren't going to search them out on their own, but frankly...waiting another week to see their reaction? The idea alone was enough to piss him off all over again.

"We might have to go looking for them. I'm a little pissed that they aren't going to head there. Maybe give them another night, see if they check their messages. Go check on Sam tomorrow. Not much else we can do, except harass the tourists. It's a fucking waiting game and I hate it."

Michael scowled, looking up at the ceiling, "you know...the more I think about it...doesn't really make sense they'd go after mom and gramps first if they really wanted to get back at Sammy. I mean...he's got a wife...and I'm sure he's got kids, too. Wouldn't they go after _them_ first? Why would they come all the way here? There's something we're missing here…"

"Careful, Mikey...thinking doesn't suit you," Marko snickered, biting the thumb of his glove and quickly backing away from David in case he got pissy. He tended to, where Michael was concerned.

David growled softly at Marko in warning, "What about gramps, maybe they went after him."

"Well, yeah, obviously they went after _him_. He's dead, isn't he?" Dwayne replied, lowering his book. "Old man knows…" He paused, " _knew_ a thing or two about vampires. Probably made some enemies at some point who were in for the long con. So they wait until his golden years, then off him when he's just about ready to die anyway. They probably didn't even leave that card for anybody to find, they just left it for 'dramatic effect'." He lifted his book again, "makes sense if you're nuts."

"Well...why didn't you fucking say anything when I was scaring the shit out of my little brother?!" Michael demanded.

Dwayne shrugged, "you didn't ask."

David rolled his eyes, "Your brother needed a good scare anyway. If they're covering up the fact they're vampires and playing human then they must be insane."

Paul suddenly jerked awake, smacking his lips and yawning, "why'shh...why'shhh my head feel sho light?" His tongue felt like it weighed about ten pounds.

"No brain in there, Pauly, remember?" Marko hopped over and tapped on Paul's forehead with a sly little smirk.

"Good stuff huh? Knocked you the fuck out." David grinned wickedly, "I wouldn't bother trying to find the rest of your stash, Mitch used it all."

Paul crossed his eyes, "that...bashtard!"

* * *

3:30 AM in the morning...and Alan still showed absolutely no signs of slowing down. He was rushing about the kitchen sorting and tossing trash, sweeping, scrubbing, cleaning...it was a little dizzying.

"So I call him and I say 'Ed, you gotta stop telling people I'm dead, you dipshit', and you know what he says?" Alan rambled on, Sam shook his head as Alan continued, "he says 'one of these days it's gonna be the truth, I'm just keeping your bases covered...because we're brothers'. Can you believe that? As if I wouldn't die at some point anyway even if I wasn't a halfie…" He and his brother had always bickered on some level, and this just seemed to be a weirder twist on it.

"I'm sorry, Alan, that's really shitty of him. I didn't even go around telling people Michael was dead, they think he's in like Africa."

Alan turned to stare at Sam, dropping the broom he was holding, "wow...that's...why Africa?"

"Yeah, they just ask me how he's doing, I say helping the less fortunate. It works and no one has to know he's one of the evil undead who would rather eat the less fortunate than help them."

For a moment, Alan was silent as he knelt to pick up the broom and prop it up against the kitchen wall, eyes darting towards the fridge where he'd stored the contents of a cooler he'd kept in his car trunk for emergencies. He honestly hadn't expected to be sticking around for a couple of days, but he kind of owed it to the old man for helping him out when shit hit the fan…

"You...you want to leave the room while I...y'know?" He raised his eyebrows, nodding towards the fridge. It wasn't as if Sam hadn't seen what he put in there. But the first (and only time) Edgar had seen him do it...that was kind of what sent him into overdrive with his vampire frenzy, which was putting it mildly. He was already pretty manic about it, but these days even Alan couldn't follow his thin threads of logic about the whole mess. And they'd spent twenty years practically attached at the hip.

While Alan waited for Sam's answer, he yanked open the fridge door and dug out a medium-sized white tub, setting it gently on the counter. His hands were starting to shake, and just thinking about it made his stomach turn. He hated drinking this shit, but the alternative? Losing control. He just couldn't let that happen. "Funny...you really do look at things different when you're on the other side…" he mumbled to himself, wringing his hands together. He wasn't even sure if he was addressing the remark to Sam or not. He'd put tonight's meal off a little longer than he should. Frankly, Sam was starting to smell a lot better...which was why he had to hurry up and get this over with.

"Umm, yeah…" He swallowed hard, thinking of Mike as he left the room.

His thoughts were consumed with watching his brother feed for the first time, those golden eyes staring at him. The lack of recognition, it was as if his brother had taken a vacation and all that was left was a monster. It gave him a newfound respect for Alan but it made him wonder how his big brother, the strongest guy he knew, could have given in after a few weeks while Alan had resisted for three years. Was it too late to ask now, after two and a half decades of pretty much shutting each other out?

Maybe it had something to do with the others...constantly hanging around him, pressuring him...and that was one thing Alan definitely didn't have. Sam leaned against the wall outside of the kitchen, waiting for some kind of signal that it'd be okay for him to go back in. "Alan?" He called out, unsure whether talking right now was something the Frog brother would be capable of, if he was anything like...like Mike had been…

"Yeah?" He heard the sound of liquid being poured into a glass, and made a mental note to rinse the dishes twice before he packed them away.

"How have you managed to hold on so long, huh?"

There was a long pause, and Sam gagged when he realized it was probably because Alan was chugging a gross squirrel or raccoon cocktail...since there really wasn't a lot of larger game in Santa Carla. "I think…" Alan gasped, and Sam shivered. Ugh. Gross. "I think it's cause I know what I'm getting into if I lose it. Guess you could say that makes me lucky. Unlucky. Whatever."

"You're a lot less of a dick than you used to be," Sam smirked privately.

"Oh, don't worry...I'm still a dick," Alan called back to him, "SCORE! There's still Oreos and Root beer in here!"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Hey! I was gonna give them a funeral and bury them in memory of grandpa!" He still didn't want to go in there for fear he was still drinking his animal blood.

"Too late. Already eating them," Alan called out, voice muffled by the crunching sound of Oreos in his mouth, "you can come back in, now." He started to hum a funeral march while he chewed.


	6. Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback for Michael and David. The boys eat. Michael gets jealous. Sexy times ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ran - If you read the last story (which you should have...shame on you for trying to read a sequel before the first part if you haven't) then you know you're eventually going to see some bits with David and Mike. Well...yeah, those bits are in this chapter.
> 
> Kage - Might be more in later chapters too!

_25 Years ago…_

Michael stubbed out his cigarette and flicked it away from the couch, "I'm going out," he mumbled, grabbing his jacket and slipping it on before he began to stride towards the lobby exit. David was the only one who seemed to have noticed. Either that, or the others just didn't give a fuck.

His shoulders were tense. He was prepared for a fight, if David knew what he was planning, but so far the pack leader had yet to even speak to him. Not for the last hour or so he'd spent brooding on the couch, glaring at his own feet, and every once in awhile glancing over at David to make sure he wasn't reading his thoughts.

"Get some beer," Marko shouted before he was outside. Michael stopped and glanced back at him.

"No," and with that, he was gone. Wasn't looking behind him to see if David was following, or even watching. Something told him that would only make him hesitate again, put this off to another night. But three months of this shit, and he couldn't handle it anymore. Couldn't just _accept_ that he could possibly lose active interest in not only women, but anyone besides David. Because you didn't just start eating butterscotch candy after you liked licorice all your life, and never once get a craving for licorice again...you didn't stay committed to butterscotch. He wasn't going to fucking stay committed to a choice he hadn't even had much of a say in. Tonight, he was going to eat some god damned licorice. Butterscotch could just go fuck himself...Michael shook his head. He was getting way too deep into this stupid metaphor.

David followed, keeping distance between them as he made his way after his wayward mate. Oh, he knew what he was planning but it was better for him to figure it out for himself. Of course he wasn't going to let Michael just walk off without following him, not that he was going to get close enough for Michael to notice him. He lit up another cigarette, watching the brunette look for a pretty girl. There were plenty of them, he just needed to hurry up and pick one.

Ironically, when he finally settled on one, Michael noticed how little she had in common with Star. Her hair wasn't wild and dark, but thin and blonde...wiry. She was pretty, and she had a smile that curved in just such a way as to always lean in one direction or the other, but never quite even...something bugged him about the way he was drawn to her. As if there were certain features about the girl he appreciated much more than he should have. But he was impatient tonight...wanted to just hurry the hell up and get this over with. Before he chickened out.

David chuckled internally, taking a slow drag. Well, he had good taste at least. The girl smiled at him when he approached, "Hi, I'm Dana."

"Nice name. I'm Michael," he replied with a slow smile back at her. He tried not to put too much of his thought into it, though, or he'd end up just looking like he wanted to eat her...which, granted, he kind of did. But that would just have to wait. And it somehow struck him as a little rude to bang her and bite her.

"Umm, so, would you like to get a soda?"

"Sounds good," Michael shrugged, glancing around. So far, no signs of David...that was good. "You from around here?" First thing was first, he had to make sure she wasn't an immediate local. Too many of those in a week, and it would just cause problems.

She shook her head, "Nope, visiting my uncle." Her smile grew and she pressed closer to him, "I'm from LA actually." She bit her lip lightly, trying to look sexy, "What about you? You from around here?"

"I'm staying with a few friends. Probably going to stick around for awhile. You have a ride?" he wanted to hurry this up...didn't want to spend all night flirting. That would only mean having to spend a second night avoiding David so he could 'get to know her' a bit better before getting to know the inside of her pants. Hopefully, she didn't make this too hard, because he didn't want to have to search out another...wow, he'd really changed a lot.

She bit her lip again, "I have a hotel." Her voice was soft as she batted her eyelashes at him.

Ohhhhhhhh….now it clicked. Gosh, did he really want to do this with a-...? Well, he felt a lot less impatient about it now. "Sounds great," he grinned. He still hadn't completely mastered reading minds just yet.

She took his hand, leading the way, pulling him back to her hotel, "I always wanted to be with a bad boy."

"Oh! You're not a…" He replied, following her, "a...hotel owner?" He recovered. Badly. Hopefully she'd think it was a joke. _Fuck!_

She smacked his shoulder, shaking her head, "I know just what you thought buster but I'm not." She tugged him into her room.

David rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall. Michael was lucky to have him for a mate, not everyone would find his inability to pick up chicks endearing. He took another drag of his cigarette. The girl was so easy, it was going to make Michael so embarrassed when he had his little...problem. David knew exactly what was going to happen, he had tested it himself just to see what would happen so he leaned beside the door and waited, waited for Michael to finish up...or, well, not finish.

She shoved him toward the bed, pushing him onto it as she stripped off her shirt in one smooth pull, "Anyone ever told you that you look like Jim Morrison?"

Michael happily sat down, stripping off his jacket and shirt in a hurry. In a hurry to prove to himself he could do this, and he could enjoy it just as much as he would have if he'd never met that bastard. "I've heard it a few times," he replied to her question curtly, leaning forward to grab her by the waist and pull her closer to him at the edge of the bed. "Anyone ever tell you…" He paused, thinking…"you've got really blonde hair?" In his defense, talking had never really been his strong suit, anyway.

By now, he really should have felt...well... _something_. She tugged her bra off, smiling at him as she moved closer, "Wanna touch 'em?"

He nodded, reaching forward and putting both hands on her chest, concentrating. Of course, the more he tried, the harder this was getting. And not in the way he was hoping for. By now, he was sure the look of intense concentration was plastered all over his face. "You're hot," he remarked, trying to cover up his disappointment that his nether regions apparently weren't on board with that assessment yet.

She scowled slightly, straddling his lap, "Umm, are you okay?" She reached down, grasping Little Michael. Unfortunately, Little Michael didn't seem to be paying much attention. In fact, he was very stubbornly stuck in some sort of dream, and there was no rousing him. This would call for drastic measures.

"You...uh…" Michael cleared his throat, shifting and pulling her off of his lap so he could maneuver her onto the mattress beside him, "you ever pillow fight with your friends?" Pillow fights were hot...a chick talking about naked sweaty pillow fights with her girlfriends? How could _that_ not work?

She pushed him back, getting off him and grabbing her shirt, "I can't believe it! I can't believe this! The perfect guy and he can't even get it up? Get out!" She pointed to the door.

Easy to get into bed, and apparently easy to get out of bed, too. Michael snatched his shirt up from the ground and shoved it on, then he grabbed his jacket and slung it over his shoulder. He could just eat her right now, as mad as he was...but he decided against it. "You know something," he grumbled as he stomped towards the door, "chicks aren't the only ones who need foreplay sometimes, you skanky bitch!" With that, he yanked the door open and stepped out of the room, slamming it behind him. _Hard._

David was waiting for him outside, still smoking and leaning against the wall. He looked at his mate, meeting his eyes. He didn't need to say anything, the look on his face was answer enough. Without a word he pulled open the door and stepped inside, the only sound that followed was a scream.

Sighing outwardly, Michael waited for the scream to die, and he was only mildly surprised that no one seemed to have been roused from their sleep to find the source. He raised a hand to knock on the door, but it opened without so much as a touch. Glaring into the bloodied mess that had once been a three-star room, he wasn't surprised when he realized Little Michael seemed to have finally woken up. Well...damn.

* * *

_Back to the 'present'..._

Maybe they didn't need to hunt tonight, and maybe they were all just a little bit pissed off they still hadn't found or heard from those stupid fucks who decided to open up shop in a place they didn't belong, but screw it...nobody was too happy right now. So they decided to grab themselves something to eat anyway.

David pulled the girl he had picked up closer, about to drive his fangs into her throat when she was suddenly ripped from his arms. He snarled, baring his teeth as he looked at the culprit. Michael.

"What the fuck, that one was mine!" He hissed angrily.

"I was hungry," Michael shrugged. An obvious lie...he'd just drug her claws across the girl's throat and left her to bleed out on the ground while he cradled his own kill, half-finished and barely breathing.

"You had your own!" He reached for the girl, wanting to at least get a little bit out of it, "What the hell." He growled as the girl was pulled out of his reach, Michael growling at him.

" _She was practically fucking your knee before you bit into her, probably make you sick or some shit…"_ Michael hissed in his mind, resuming his meal, but still making sure the other girl died before David got his hands on her again.

David snarled, "Jealous bitch."

Marko rolled his eyes, digging through the pockets of Paul's kill and scavenging for shinies, " _why do you two keep getting chicks if you're both going to freak the fuck out on each other all the time like that? Doesn't it ever get old?_ "

Michael wrinkled his nose, " _I don't like bristles._ "

David growled at Marko, " _No one's quite like Michael. I'm hungry."_ He groused.

Shrugging, Michael didn't even look at him, " _don't pick a whore next time, and you won't be hungry. Problem. Solved."_

" _I can't help it if I'm a sexy bastard."_

" _You know, I've put up with you for over a hundred years now, and I've honestly got one question I've been dying to ask Mikey for awhile now,"_ Paul interrupted their 'romantic' moment together, flopping down beside Michael and ruffling his hair. To which, Michael dropped his drained kill and shoved him away with a growl.

Paul laughed, jumping to his feet, " _how do you put up with an ugly fuck like Davey, huh?"_

" _I think about the alternatives, and I manage not to vomit,"_ Michael replied, rolling his eyes.

David growled at both of them, " _Yeah, he could be stuck with your ugly ass."_

" _Hey, this ass is a national treasure!"_ Paul insisted, strutting through the sand and crouching over Dwayne to bug him instead.

Michael glanced over at David, frowning, " _I think I saw a homeless guy under the dock on our way out here…"_

David scowled, " _I don't want some stinky ass homeless guy."_ He looked at his mate thoughtfully, " _How about I just bite you."_ He stated, stalking toward his bloody mate. Michael eyed him warily, scrambling back in the sand as he approached.

"Back off," Michael growled, remaining in a defensive crouch. If they both got into it, they'd only both end up needing to feed _again,_ and Michael wasn't really too hot on that. He kind of had plans to go see his brother tonight for a chat. There was only so much time left to do that.

He growled again, "Fine, find me someone to eat then since you stole my meal! Has to be good food too." Oh, he was so going to bite him, it always led to sex and that was always fun.

Standing up, Michael dusted the sand from his pants and scowled, "fine. Fuck. Whatever…" He fully planned to knock her out when he found her, too. So yeah, David would get his stupid pretty meal...but he wouldn't get much of a response out of her either. " _Asshole…"_

Oh, David didn't plan to be happy with anything he brought, just so he could eat his mate, it would be so much more fulfilling than some bimbo, "Hurry back."

And he did. With the homeless guy...David shook his head, moving over to his mate and victim. Well, Marko or Paul could have it. The moment Michael let his guard down he lunged, grabbing him and sinking his fangs into his throat, holding him close and tight. God, his mate tasted amazing. Michael gave a sharp intake of breath, reaching back to dig claws into the back of David's head, feigning a struggle. They'd been doing this for 25 years now; he wasn't very convincing. David growled softly, tugging at his shirt as he slowly lapped at the wound, rocking against him.

" _I'll show you leg humping!"_

" _Was that supposed to be sexy?"_ Michael mentally drawled, closing his eyes and purring.

David chuckled softly, rocking their hips together slowly, " _Nah, but this is."_ He nipped up his throat, sucking on his earlobe, abandoning his quest for blood in favor of his quest for other...activities. Michael squirmed, turning around until they were pressed chest to chest, scrambling to tear at David's coat. The fifty mountains of cloth he wore were always a bit of a challenge.

Meanwhile, Marko had managed to get his hand on a new phone...and was already wrestling over possession of it with Paul. So they had a 'semblance' of privacy. Dwayne on the other hand walked away, heading to find something, man, watching those two go at it was enough to make a priest horny.

Having finally shoved David's coat away, Michael was feverishly littering his neck with soft nips, drawing spots of blood here and there, just barely breaking the skin. His mate's blood tasted even better today than it had in the beginning, just as intoxicating, and he could swear if he wasn't already damned...he certainly would be now. David groaned, grasping his hips and rocking down against him, reaching down to tug their pants open to get more of that perfect flesh on flesh.

" _Fuck, yeah."_

Michael couldn't agree more as he pushed David's shirt up, slowly dragging his fingertips along his mate's skin as he did, teasingly, before he tossed the shirt aside to fall over the dead eyes of his forgotten meal. " _You're so fucking pale,"_ he remarked, maybe a bit of criticism, and maybe a compliment. A little of both.

David raised an eyebrow, giving him a sharp thrust down, " _Yeah, well, so are you!"_

As Michael fell onto his back, he drug David down with him, pulling him close and biting hungrily at his bottom lip, licking at a trace of blood that formed on the pink flesh, " _not as pale as you are."_

David grumbled but settled himself between his legs, rocking against him slowly, eliciting sharp gasps and moans. Michael had always been a fairly vocal bed partner, which David had come to enjoy regardless of how much the others complained. Words and otherwise.

Reaching up, Michael dug his claws into David's shoulders, grinding up against him in response to his rocking motions, becoming more and more anxious. They writhed together, either ignoring or forgetting the fact that sand gets everywhere. David thrust down sharply against him, dragging blunt nails down his sides as he grunted softly. He could never get tired of this. This was like his own little piece of heaven. It wasn't long before they came together, leaving a mess between them. They were too worked up, wound up so tight from the invasion of their territory and something else, something that they couldn't ignore but had no idea what it was. Paul and Marko felt it too, they just weren't fucking like rabbits to get rid of that extra dose of stress. They did, however, manage to break yet another phone, which led to another fight, which Marko won, again.

"How do you keep doing that?!" Paul exploded, rubbing at his neck once he'd managed to shove Marko off of him. It was just getting _ridiculous_ now.

Marko growled softly, "You're just not up for being on top." He stated with a grin.

Paul scowled, looking about them, "where'd...where'd Dwayne go?" He hadn't even noticed he was gone until just then.

Michael shrugged drowsily, nuzzling into David's neck, "dunno. Busy."

David laid over him, relaxing, "Dunno, he'll be back later, it's Dwayne." At least he could still string more than two words together, Michael's brain tended to turn to mush after a nice romp. Another reason he was a much better fuck than Paul...crazy bastard _never_ shut up. And Marko? Well...he had a crying issue he still hadn't learned to deal with...It was always a major turn off when Marko started crying in the middle of sex. And Dwayne...well, he was okay. But he also had the habit of staring you down...the _whole_ time...not very arousing.

A soft grumble escaped Paul's lips, "Man, I've got sand in my pants, this is why we should never fight on the beach."

David snickered, "Why? Because you get sand up your ass? I'm surprised even it wants to go there."

Just then, the homeless man jerked awake, and stared aghast at his surroundings, then his eyes landed on David and Michael, which led to him (of course) screaming bloody murder, until Paul stumbled over and snapped his neck with a grumble. "Nice job knocking him out, Mikey," he glanced back over at David, "...you...well...your ass...sand doesn't even want to be near it. So...there."

David burst out laughing, "Good thing too, I don't want any sand on me that would go anywhere near your ass." He stretched slowly, rolling off Michael onto his coat, "We should be heading back." He looked up toward the boardwalk, "Dwayne'll be fine on his own."

Michael yawned, slowly sitting up and glaring moodily over at David, "was gonna see Sammy tonight…" He yanked his pants back into their proper place and zipped them up.

"Still can, want me to go with you to see the little brat?"

"If you can keep your mouth shut," Michael replied, yawning again. "No threatening looks, either. You got it?"

He held up his hands in a placating gesture, "Alrighty, whatever you want." Man, if Sam knew what Michael was like post-sex he wouldn't need to do anything to make blondie uncomfortable, Michael would do it all on his own because if there was one thing that hadn't changed much, it was the after sex tiredness that plagued his mate.

Michael clawed at one of the bodies, tearing a large piece of cloth from a girl's shirt to rub at his stomach. Yeah, showing up at Sam's house looking like he'd just...somehow, it didn't make for a very pleasant brotherly fireside chat. When he was satisfied, he yanked his shirt down and tossed the cloth over to David. "C'mon...let's make it quick," he grumbled, standing up and shaking his legs out. Sand had indeed...gotten everywhere. Whether or not the debate David and Paul had about sand in their asses was a moot point, he certainly had enough to make up for the two of them. Should've done it on David's coat…

David wiped himself down quickly before tugging his clothes on, dusting off his coat before pulling it on, "Maybe we can steal the bathtub to clean up in while we're at it."

"How're we gonna carry it back?" Michael asked, squinting. He was half-awake right now. Logic was not on his side. He wasn't an idiot...he really wasn't. He just had a bit of an issue comprehending the literal and the figurative at the moment.

He rolled his eyes, "We're just gonna use it while we're there. Let's go, sleeping beauty." He took off, flying was always a relaxing experience for him, they'd come back for their bikes after their little trip to see Sammy.


	7. Another Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam decides to settle down a little too late in the game. Michael and David leave yet another message, this time one that may stick a bit better. David may have just figured out why they're all acting a little 'off' lately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ran - Not surprised David would have a thing for Keifer. He's fairly self-absorbed. Anyway, we've worked through most of our buffer now, haven't we Kage? Guess that means it'll probably be updates every 'other' day from here on...
> 
> Kage - Gotta build one back up! Might take a little bit to do it but we will!

Alan had left that morning. Said he couldn't hang around too long, or he'd get headaches. Promised he'd come back later, when he calmed down. Sam sat silently at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a cigarette, thinking. Weird, how just talking to someone could change so much...he felt even worse now that Alan was gone, because it meant he got stuck alone with his thoughts again. Thoughts about mom, about grandpa...about Mike. And somehow, they always wound up back with him. He was responsible for three deaths, counting what had happened to Mike...five, if you counted those two guys he saw him kill on the beach...and over a thousand, if you counted every single person after who ended up being a meal for his brother. Yeah...thoughts could kill a guy, if he tried hard enough.

He flicked his cigarette on the ashtray beside his coffee cup and sighed, running a hand through his hair. He was waiting for a call from Diana, and so far he hadn't had much luck. She wasn't even answering. He needed her, needed her advice before he did something stupid, and he would probably do something stupid. Would she really kick him out if he didn't figure this out? A soft sigh escaped his lips and he took another long drag, at this moment, his life sucked.

And then...the phone rang.

Sam was so anxious to answer, he nearly fumbled and dropped it into his coffee cup in the process of answering. "Hello? Diana?!" He exclaimed. Hadn't bothered checking who was calling before he answered.

"No...Ed," Edgar Frog grunted over the phone.

He couldn't help the sound of disappointment that escaped his lips, "What do you want, Edgar?"

"Big stuff is happening, Sam. Major stuff. Gonna need some back-up on this one…"

He paused for a moment, agonizing over his next words, "With what?" He had wanted to say something else, would say something else depending on what came next, but he couldn't help but ask.

"Can't talk much...got eyes on me right now, gonna have to use our old code language. You remember the code language, don't you?" Edgar was hissing, whispering over the phone now...and coming from someone who grunted half of his words, it definitely wasn't the most pleasant sound.

He kind of remembered. With a roll of his eyes he responded, "What is it? Just tell me."

"The cabbage is in the crisper…and it knows I've got a kitchen knife. The cabbage took my kitchen knife, Sam!" He was breathing heavy now, panicking so much, Sam almost thought sweat was going to trickle out of the speaker. "And that's not all...there's so much cabbage in the fridge, now, it's overflowing. There's too much cabbage...and I think it wants to make coleslaw…" Edgar gasped, "gotta go. Meet me at the old shop tomorrow afternoon...if I'm not there, I'm probably coleslaw." With that, he hung up.

Sam blinked, staring at the phone, "What the fuck?" He racked his mind, trying to remember what any of that meant, then it dawned on him, he'd been found out, "Son of a bitch."

And then...the phone rang again.

He looked at it in trepidation before answering, "Hello?"

"Sam?" It was Diana.

It was so good to hear her voice, like a balm on his soul, "Diana, I've...I miss you."

"They came back, Sam. Trashed the house...tried to get to the baby when I was sleeping."

He couldn't do this anymore, he had to be home to protect them, wait, they came back? He scowled slightly, "Are you, is everyone alright?" There was a hint of panic in his voice.

"We're fine," she sighed. Exasperated. "Susan is a little shaken up. But...I remembered where you kept your crossbow...honestly never thought I'd have to use it," she laughed nervously. "Most people keep guns in their house for break-ins...we've got a god damned medieval arsenal."

He smiled, "I'm glad I showed you how." He paused, "There's a couple things I have to finish up here and then I'll be home, no more hunting, no more vampires. I, umm, talked with Mike too, he's changed, a lot."

There was a long pause on her end. So long, for a moment he thought she'd hung up. "And he didn't try to eat you?"

"Nope, there was some threatening though but he didn't try to eat me and he broke the tv I got for grandpa."

"Then I guess that's a good sign," she laughed a little. "Come home soon, Sam."

"I will, I love you." So, Ed was wrong, these weren't the same vampires. Well, he was going to have to let him know just how wrong he was. If he didn't get his ass murdered before tomorrow, right now he needed some sleep. A knock at the door ruined that idea quickly. He got up, walking over and throwing open the door to find Michael and David standing there, "What now?" Like his night couldn't get any better.

"Hey, dork," Michael greeted him tiredly, leaning forward to ruffle his brother's hair. They really needed to have a serious discussion about what was and was not acceptable behavior towards your practically middle-aged brother. "Thought we'd swing by and see how things were going. Not mad at you anymore."

"I'm glad to hear that at least, umm, things are okay. I talked with Diana, which was good, I think Edgar got himself caught which is not so good." His brother had that look about him, the one that he only got after he had a girl stay over… "Oh, my, god, you just had sex, didn't you?!"

Michael shrugged, stepping inside, "place looks better. Why do you even hang out with that dumbass anymore?" Yeah, he wasn't about to give Sam any details on that front. Somehow he just knew if he conjured up an image of a barbie-doll bimbo just to make his brother feel comfortable, David would figure out a way to ruin it. Not that he really even cared at this point, but it still wasn't a conversation they _needed_ to have.

David slung an arm around his shoulders, "Good question, why do you hang around with him?" He paused, "And what do you want us to do about him being caught?" He grinned wickedly.

Sam lowered his eyebrows, looking between the two. They were...creepy close. He shook his head, crossing back into the kitchen to stub out his cigarette and snatch up his coffee, "I don't 'hang out with him' that much anymore. After I get home, if he's still in one piece, I don't plan on doing it at all." He took a gulp of coffee, cringing at the taste...it had gotten cold. He'd have to brew another pot. "I don't think there's anything you can do...just...y'know...I'd appreciate it if you didn't kill him."

Michael plucked David's arm from around his shoulder and gave him a warning look, following his brother into the kitchen, "no promises there, Sammy."

"Well, we might be able to do something, for a price." David paused, "What are you planning on doing? Nothing stupid I hope." He sat down at the table, relaxing back in a chair, "Ooo, Oreos."

Sam reached out to snatch at the half-empty bag, "no. These are getting a funeral. Alan already ate half the bag, I'm not giving anymore to a fanged fat-ass, thank you very much."

David growled softly but relaxed back, he said he'd be good and he would, "So, what're you planning on doing with Edgar?"

"I dunno...probably tell him to skip town, or something. Doubt he'll listen, but I'm...I'm done with this. All of it."

"Good job, only took you twenty-five years…" Michael grumbled, opening the fridge and glancing at the contents. He grabbed a half-empty milk carton and examined the expiration date before taking a gulp out of it and putting it back in the fridge.

"Good choice." He glanced at Michael, " _Anything you want to do about the little pissant?"_

" _Dunno. Watch him? Have Marko tail him and see where he goes? Could probably catch a few of those fucks that way,"_ Michael shrugged, looking at David and then stalking over to the kitchen table to flop down in one of the chairs.

He nodded, " _Sounds good."_ He looked at Sam, "So, what're your plans for the future? Gonna go back to your lady, settle down, no more hunting?"

Sam nodded, fingering his coffee cup and looking back over at his brother, "I'm...sorry, Mike. I shouldn't have just gone crazy and tried to call you out. I should've known you wouldn't do something like that to mom and grandpa...and...I'm sorry about everything else."

"Sorry isn't going to change anything, Sam. Just get over it and move on." Michael replied curtly. You couldn't just fix twenty-five years with one apology. Life didn't work that way. "Plus, not your fault I'm like this. I probably would've snuck out and done the same stupid shit even if I didn't drop you off at that comic shop."

David grinned, "Yeah, wasn't going to let you go anyway, you were kind of stuck with it in the first place."

Michael scowled, "I could've fought it if I knew what I was getting into."

David shrugged, "Hey, what's past is past."

Sam cleared his throat, "did you...find out about the guys who…?" He glanced around the room.

"We found their stupid club, but they haven't shown up to see what we did yet. It's frustrating."

"We went through a lot of trouble leaving them such a nice housewarming gift, too," Michael remarked, rubbing at his eyes. He was _exhausted_.

Sam pushed his cup away and snatched up a soft packet of cigarettes from beside the dirty ashtray, fishing out another, "I don't know how Ed finds these guys...what are the odds he'd end up being here right around the same time-...?" He shook his head. "Should've quit this shit a long time ago." and it wasn't clear whether he was talking about the cigarettes or the hunting. He paused, "and...uh...the guys who did this to the house, killed mom and gramps...I don't think they did it because of me."

David scowled, "If not your fault, whose? I take it these crazy assholes aren't the ones that followed you."

Sam sighed, "I don't know who they are. I honestly don't."

"Great. So...here's what we do know: there's some asshats trying to run a shitty club on the boardwalk, they're invading our territory, _you_ have dumbasses for friends...am I missing anything?" Michael grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

"Yeah, there are a couple vampires outside." David stated, not moving from his chair, "They smell funny, can you smell that?"

Sam looked around, "all I smell is you guys...seriously, ever heard of bathing?"

Michael leaned forward and smacked Sam in the back of the head, "shut up," he warned him. "Smells like the same ones who swung by the first time. You think they're back for a tea party?"

David grinned, "Oh, I do and I think we're gonna give 'em one."

Sam set his coffee cup down on the table, the contents sloshing about and spilling over onto his hand, "I think grandpa probably has...had some stuff in the workshop, I could-" He stood up from his chair and Michael reached back up to jerk him down in his seat.

"You're going to go up to your old room, and you're going to lock your door. Then you're going to come down when I call you." Michael informed him with a growl.

"What the fuck?! I'm 38! You can't-"

David growled at him, "Stay like a good boy." He got up, "Don't want your wife pissed at you, I don't want to deal with that when she shows up wondering what happened to you."

Michael smirked at David and then looked back at his brother, "besides...didn't you just say you were done with this?"

Sam sputtered, "Fine." He crossed his arms over his chest, sulking.

David headed for the door, stepping outside, "Hello, boys!" He grinned, seeing a pair of men outside.

They were both young and smelled human, well, vampire playing human. Both of them looked at him. The blonde one scowled at him, "Who the fuck are you?"

It was David's turn to scowl, "Man, what rock did you crawl out from under? This is _my_ turf, _my_ territory, and you haven't payed the proper respects."

Michael joined him outside, closing the door behind him and crossing his arms. " _They reek even more than the house did…"_

The other one laughed, " _Your_ territory? I don't think so, we were invited by the leader here so you can just fuck off."

David snarled, stepping off the porch, "Who? I want a name."

The pair laughed at him, actually laughed at him, and he saw red. David lunged and the blonde one screamed like a little girl.

Now it was Michael's turn to laugh, "I think he's pissing his pants…" He glanced over at the other, who was visibly shaken as he stepped back. It was a little disgusting, actually. What kind of vampires were these guys, that one move from David and they were blubbering idiots?

David grinned, grabbing the blonde around the throat and pulling him over to Michael, "So, what should we do with you? Your buddy's leaving." The other ran, scrambling across the ground like a scared crab.

The blonde gasped, struggling in David's clutch, clawing with blunt, human fingernails at David's fingers, "look…" he rasped, sounding an awful lot like a duck, "we don't want any trouble...we just want to have a good time!"

Michael reached out to ruffle the guy's hair, "isn't that sweet? He wants to have a 'good time'." His smile quickly turned into a sneer, "which one of you fucks trashed the place, and what did you do to my family?"

David gave him a shake when he didn't answer, "You're trying my patience and trust me, I don't have much of it."

He squeaked again, "Well, umm, C-Claire and her b-boys."

"...Claire?" Michael demanded. "Who the fuck is Claire?" So, some random bitch was in charge of this shit? He was already in a pretty bad mood before, but this was just making it worse. Dredging up his temper from the night they got that voicemail, and found the house in shambles. When he'd been talked down from going on a killing spree just for the hell of it...it would only take one word, just _one wrong word,_ and he'd crush this bastard's skull.

He let out a whimpering scream, "S-She's the boss, the big boss, umm, I, uhh, can take you to her club?" He sounded so hopeful, it would be fun to crush that hope.

"Her club? Fuck, we already trashed that place." David rolled his eyes.

He whimpered, slumping in his grasp, "W-What do you want from me?" He whined, "Please, just let me go." By now, his fangs and eyes were in evidence, but they made him look far less of a predator than a quivering rat, right now. They didn't suit him.

David showed his true face, baring his fangs and letting his claws dig in slightly, "You can die like a man."

Michael snarled, immediately dropping his own human guise, " _how do you wanna do this?"_

" _I want them to suffer, to look into the face of what they're supposed to be and know fear."_

" _Then we gotta take him back to the club. Make him part of the message…"_ Michael grinned madly at the struggling 'rat', "tomorrow's Wednesday...is that when you guys open the place? Wednesdays?"

The guy nodded, whimpering again, "Y-Yeah, Wednesday."

David's smile grew, "Good, let's take a little trip." He glanced at Michael, " _You wanna fly him? See how weak he really is?"_

" _Sure. I could use a bit of fresh air."_

The flight was dizzying on so very many levels. Tonight, they were finally going to get some attention, and if no one showed up the next night to confront them before that shitty club opened, the boys could happily go inside, themselves. They had a name. They even had a first kill of what would likely be many.

"Jeeze, the way you're screaming, a guy would think you'd never flown before," Michael called out above the howling wind, while David gripped tightly to their victim's shoulders.

David chuckled softly, "So, here's the thing, as vampires, we can do certain things, like fly for instance." He spoke calmly as if he wasn't holding a freaking out man, "It's all quite simple, if we dropped you I bet you'd float a bit before plummeting to the ground." His words were mostly wasted on the quivering mass in his clutches, but that sort of inconvenience had never stopped a patented David speech before, "Of course if you can't manage to fly, well, the ground's pretty far away."

"Takes practice, though, doesn't it?" Michael joined in. He was still pissed...but he could be 'civil', if it meant scaring the prick just a little more. Sometimes an empty smile was far more effective than any scowl or snarl could be.

"Lots of practice, that's why we make all our new members hang from a bridge and let go, gives them a nice little introduction to flying."

"I bet there's plenty who didn't make it past that first step, huh?" Michael remarked, looking down at the ground below, "I think we're even higher than the drop from the bridge now…"

"It's too bad that we're going to that club, I'd love to see you end up a broken mess down on the beach. Could make splatter art, that's a thing now, right?" He looked down at the guy, "Hey, what do you think about throwing paint at a canvas? The hottest thing to hit the art world or stupid?"

The vampire squirmed in David's grasp, whimpering, "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know! I just say whatever the people around me think!" He screeched, closing his eyes when he felt one of David's hand loosen on a shoulder, and his shirt tore a little bit as he began to slip in the air.

"Stop squirming, and maybe you'll live a bit longer…" Michael advised him with a snicker, as they began to gain distance and descend slowly towards the boardwalk. The lights had just shut off, so there were only a few stragglers now. Nobody would see them coming…

David grinned, dropping him to the ground in front of the club, letting him fall a couple feet before hitting the ground. He screamed before realizing it really wasn't that far but the sigh of relief was premature. David was grinning at him, his claws glinting in the remaining light. Michael remained silent, watching him. He was going to enjoy this...

"Yeah, you get to be part of the decoration!" David backed him into the building, the vampire whimpering pathetically as he shoved him up against the wall, "I'm thinking we go with the classics. Like nail him to the wall." He went hunting for something to do just that while Michael kept an eye on him.

"Aren't you going to fight back, dude? You're about to _die_. _Permanently._ " Michael leaned towards the guy, "go on...I'll even distract him for a couple of seconds so you can get a head start. Try running…" He glanced back towards David with a smirk, "hey...I think there might be something behind the bar."

David ducked down behind the bar. The guy looked hopeful, "Really? Y-You're gonna let me go?""

"Yeah...sure," Michael rolled his eyes. "But you've already wasted half your running break talking…" He leaned forward even closer, " **RUN!** "

He didn't need to be told thrice. Apparently twice, but definitely not thrice. The scene kid took off running, trying to dash through the broken door...opening...before either of them could catch him. Of course, by the very action of shouting, Michael had already drawn David's attention. But a short chase would make this that much more entertaining...honestly, he'd been so acquiescent, Michael knew David would have been far more disappointed if he _didn't_ try to make a break for it. He'd learned enough about his mate by now to figure that out. Besides, this one was small...Michael would be far more happy to slowly torture the fuck out of the ones who actually had a hand in offing his family.

"You know, they must be trying... _really_ hard to play human. Maybe even more than Max was...no killer instinct in that guy. I bet they don't even like to get their shirts dirty when they make a kill…" Michael remarked, glancing over at David. His mood was definitely improving now.

David laughed, smiling at Michael, "Fucking idiots." He bolted after the guy, it honestly wasn't much of a chase but it got his blood pumping. He grabbed him by the collar, "Whoa there, little doggy." Might not have been the best Western impression but Young Guns was an awesome movie, and Doc? Well, in David's opinion he was the best character in the movie, good looks too. He pulled the blubbering man back, grabbing the mop handle he found behind the counter and shoving him against the wall, "Any last words?"

In his final moment, the scene kid looked up at David and mustered the most intimidating face he could manage...which was difficult behind streams of tears and...mascara? Well, that definitely wasn't a topic they were going to get into. "It's not ending here. You kill me, there will still be a hundred coming tomorrow. Two hundred the week after….A gathering is coming, a congregation. It's the dawn of a new age..." If David didn't kill him soon, this would turn into a full-out speech.

David rolled his eyes, driving the handle through his heart and through the wall, "Man, he's like a Bond villain, doesn't ever shut up." He looked at Michael, "Wanna finger paint on the wall?" He watched as the kid spasmed, "I hear red is the 'in' color this year."

"Sounds good…" Michael chuckled, "bet the boys are gonna be mad they missed out…"

* * *

When they returned to the hotel afterwards, hands sticky with blood, Paul and Marko were there...but Dwayne had yet to show up. And they didn't have much longer before they had to call it a night.

Michael snatched up a half-empty bottle of tepid water beside an oil drum and poured it over one of his hands, cleaning it, before using a little bit more to wash off the other and tossing the bottle to David. "Shit...we forgot to use the bathtub while we were there…"

David grinned, "We can always go back! Would love for little Sammy to see what we've been doing." The room went silent as Dwayne walked in, covered head to toe in blood, "Um, hey, what'd you get into?"

Dwayne narrowed his eyes, "...They wouldn't give me what I wanted."

"What? Wouldn't put out for you because you stare at them all the time?" Marko grinned, getting a growl in return.

Dwayne lunged and Marko scrambled back with a shout of surprise as his bloody brother tackled him to the ground. It didn't take long for the bloody vampire to subdue the blonde, digging his fangs deeply into the back of his neck with a snarl. David glanced over at Michael, since when were they all so pissy? He looked thoughtful before shaking his head. Of course. It only happened once every few years but they did get massively territorial and violent, of course that was it. Maybe having so many others edge into their city had forced it to happen a little sooner, too. He watched as Dwayne pressed tight against the smaller vampire and horny, he cringed. Dwayne and Marko could figure it out, tomorrow was Wednesday and he couldn't wait for them to see their little present. Hell, they might have even figured it out tonight, if they checked their voicemail...


	8. Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed comes close to getting murdered during yet another interrogation. Sam finds a letter from grandpa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kage - Finally someone gets to see the boys' handy work!
> 
> Ran - All of that hard work and destruction of property finally paid off.

Claire gazed about her, more than a little distraught. She'd have to have a whole cleaning crew in, immediately when the sun rose, to deal with this mess...or they'd have to remain closed tomorrow...and that just wasn't going to work if she was establishing herself here properly. She held a lacy handkerchief to her mouth as her heels clicked over glass powder and shards, kicking at a broken chair.

"Marcus, I expect this to be taken care of. _Right away_." She informed her companion, wrinkling her nose at the stench hanging in the air as her eyes were drawn towards a figure pinned to the wall…" Filthy...disgusting animals. No civility whatsoever! I told you they weren't...devil worshippers!" She rounded on him with a deep frown, as if she hadn't immediately dismissed the idea of the Lost Boys when they'd made their short inquiries.

Marcus was on his phone in an instant, arranging for a crew to come in, "What do you mean you can't take care of this?" Marcus shouted, "Because some gang of bikers did it?"

She looked at him sharply, "how do they _know_ it was bikers?! Did anyone _see_ them come here?"

He held up a finger, "We'll pay double your fee." His teeth clenched together, this was enough to give him an ulcer, if they could get ulcers, "Fine, be here in an hour." He really wanted to throw his phone but refrained, "Apparently people saw them but no one will do anything about it or against these so called Lost Boys." He stepped into the club area, finally seeing what was left on the wall. The vampire pinned to it had been gutted and the blood had been used to put some kind of abstract art on the wall. It was kind of...intriguing. They could make a lot off it by selling it as an art piece if it weren't for the dead body.

Claire lowered her handkerchief and wafted it in the air, reaching into her shoulder purse to spray it down with perfume in the process. "Marcus, I can't stress how lucky you are to have _me_ for a...maker. Can you imagine how miserable you'd be if you acted like...these things?" She gestured to the wall, wrinkling her nose.

He was beginning to wonder if he'd be better off with one of them than her. Honestly the blood smelled so very good and there was a scent of violence in the air that was...appealing. What if this was what they were meant to be? What if they were supposed to be violent and...no, he couldn't follow that line of thought, "Yes, Claire." He agreed in a quiet murmur. She nodded, satisfied with his response. For now. She was a little unpredictable, though. Sometimes even when he agreed and followed orders, she'd find a reason to fly off the handle and practically burn the building down if she was inclined.

"Bring that...person...you know, the one with the awful hair...the one Alixe caught trying to spray the entrance down with holy oil this evening...I want to talk to him." Claire sat down on one of the few remaining unbroken chairs by the bar.

He nodded, going to retrieve him. He felt sorry for the kid but it was either him or Marcus and if Marcus was anything he was a survivor. He'd do what it took to continue 'living', even if it was underhanded and a little dirty.

Alex was standing over the kid with the bad hair and clothes, okay, so he wasn't really a kid but that's what Claire had decided he was and, well, what she says goes.

"Alex." The younger vampire looked so relieved to be called by his actual name, "She wants him now." He stated, looking at the man with sympathy in his eyes, "Let's go." The human struggled the entire five feet it took to drag him into the middle of the room.

Claire held up a hand, "Alixe...hold him a little tighter. I want him to understand exactly what will happen if he doesn't give us the information we want." She glared over at Marcus, "and if _someone_ had done proper background checks, maybe he wouldn't have been hired here in the first place…"

"He checked out, no criminal record." He had done his job and took offense that he had been accused of not doing it. Alex did as he was told, tugging Edgar's arms back sharply.

"Torture me. Break my legs. Dunk me in brine...I'll never talk, bloodsuckers!" Edgar shouted, glaring back and forth at Marcus and Claire.

Claire narrowed her eyes, "Marcus. You take care of this. I want every little detail wrung out of him as efficiently as possible…" She stood up and shoved her handkerchief over her face, "as for me...I've got an errand to run. _Someone_ has to make sure there's cheesecake for the party tomorrow…" She quickly marched towards the door, pausing to say one final thing, "and make sure they spray the building down...thoroughly. That stench is disgusting. It makes me not even want to step foot in the place!" And then, she was gone. Claire rarely liked to take care of...pretty much anything. That's what she had Marcus and the others for.

"Whatever you bastards think you're going to do to Sam, that's nothing compared to what I'm gonna do to you!" Edgar grunted.

"Sam? So that's his name, the one with those bikers." He laughed, "Not a very fitting name. Doesn't strike fear into me." He paused, "Tell me, what are _you_ going to do to me?"

Scowling, Edgar lowered his head and tried to cover up his immediate look of confusion, "with the bikers? No, Sam's a hunter!" He stuck out his chest, which was quite a feat, given how tightly his arms were being restrained, "like me! You came and killed his family!" He paused. "Gonna stake ya...soon as I get free." He began his struggles anew, valiantly kicking his feet and grunting even more.

Marcus scowled, "The blonde kid in those pictures? Who's the brunette, the biker?"

Edgar continued to grunt and kick, "that shit-sucker?! His name was Michael!"

"Was? Did you kill him?" He settled into an unbroken chair, "Tell me about these so called Lost Boys. Ghosts, demon worshipers, tell me everything you know."

Edgar panted, starting to run out of breath...he was getting too old for this shit, and he had yet to grasp that. "He...you don't have names once you're turned. You're just vampires. Bloodsucking sons of bitches…" He took a deep breath, grunting again and glaring at Marcus with all of the ferocity he could muster. Not really that intimidating, given his current position, "and that's what _he_ is. Just like the rest of them…tried staking a few back in '87...didn't work out."

"Do you have names for them? Do you know where they live? Prove to me that you're useful and I might let you live."

"...they live…" Edgar paused, shaking his head, "they live in Santa Carla. Duh." Then he paused again…"I...I never asked them what their names were. Don't usually spend a lot of time around them before they get scared of me and run off. Ask the local police. Anyone'll tell you...Me, Edgar Frog, I'm the best hunter around. My brother used to be, too..." He looked remorseful for a moment, " _used_ to."

Marcus burst out laughing, "And what happened to your brother? Probably the same thing that's going to happen to you unless he was the brains and you were the...well, certainly not brawn."

Edgar looked disgusted and horrified at the same time, "YOU CAN DRINK YOUR OWN GOD DAMNED BLOOD, YOU SHIT-SUCKING FREAK!" He tried to lean his head back to slam it into Alex's, but the vampire was craning to the side at the time, and he only ended up uselessly thumping the back of his skull into the vampire's shoulder. " _Damn it_ …" he cursed under his breath.

Marcus laughed again, "Is that it? Was your brother turned? Is he a 'shit-sucker', as you say? So defensive over a man you no longer care about or see as family, if you treat him with the same disdain you do the rest of us."

"...I...Well…" Edgar trailed off, frowning. "He's half...he's a taxidermist now...but I did the legwork, and the bastard head vampire who did it to him is in China...I can't afford to go to China…" He looked back at Marcus, "DON'T CHANGE THE SUBJECT!"

Marcus spread his hands in supplication, "Very well. If Sam's your friend, a fellow hunter, and his brother, Michael, is one of these Lost Boys, surely you must know something about them and about where they live."

Edgar looked away, seemingly in deep thought. But frankly, his brain could probably only go so deep before you were walking right out again. "Sam...made me agree not to go after them back in '95. Said he wouldn't help me hunt anymore if I tried to stake his brother...can't help you."

Marcus sighed, "And you know nothing from before that?" This guy was exasperating.

"Before what? I'm not following you…"

He rolled his eyes, "Before '95."

"Remember what before '95?"

Marcus slapped him, hard across the face, "You know exactly what and don't think trying to frustrate me will get you anywhere except plastered up against the wall like that guy." He pointed to the mural left for them.

Edgar stared at Marcus in shock, hair slung over his face, headband in disarray, "you slapped me!"

"I'll do it again if you don't answer my questions."

"Look, buddy, the frozen yogurt stand went out of business way before '95." Edgar was beginning to panic. He was trapped in a rock and a hard place. Usually playing dumb worked to buy him time...but it wasn't so easy when he couldn't run or didn't have a cross handy. Damn it, he knew he should have worn his rosary today…"and I guess they still live the same place now they lived back before '95, too."

"Which is?" He prompted with a sigh.

Edgar's eyes darted towards the broken doors, then back to Marcus, then back to the broken doors, then back to Marcus...then back to the broken doors…

"ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION!"

"Uh…" Edgar cleared his throat. "A cave. Out by the bluff. I think it used to be a hotel or something…" His ears were ringing now...why did the guy have to yell so loud? Damn.

Marcus collected himself before looking at Alex, "Leave him here, I'll take care of him." He wrapped a hand around Edgar's throat before hissing in his ear, "If you know what's good for you, you won't move a muscle." Now that Edgar was finally beginning to get scared, he acquiesced. The moment Alex was gone, Marcus released him, "Leave and I won't kill you, leave and don't show your face around here or I will be the least of your worries. Go lay low for a couple of days. Maybe this will all blow over and no one will get hurt."

Edgar gulped, but remained still. He definitely wasn't going to follow this advice, of course...he just needed to get reinforcements…

"Go, before I change my mind."

Slowly nodding, Edgar ducked low and crept backwards out of the building, as if he were handling a hostage negotiation situation, and didn't want to make any wrong moves...but the second he was outside, he could have left a cloud in his own shape as he ran off.

* * *

Sam shoved yet another box into the back of his car, slamming the trunk lid. He was going to drop some things off at Alan's place today, mostly from grandpa's workshop. After that, he'd made a pretty tough decision...he wasn't going to sell. He wasn't going to stay, either, but keeping the house would at least give him a reason to come back once in awhile to see Mike. Like it or not, because he was tired of keeping his brother out of his life...and other than the family he'd built on his own with Diana, Michael was all he had left...immediate family, anyway.

He still had a lot of things to gather from the workshop, though, because he seriously doubted Diana or the kids would really want to come down here for Summer trips if they had to contend with a freaky-ass room packed with antlers and half-finished projects of dead animals in bizarre poses. He would never understand why grandpa _or_ Alan thought it was some kind of art-form.

"Alright, grandpa, time to air this place out...hope you don't mind if I break a couple house rules," Sam coughed, spreading the double-doors open wide and waving his arm about as specks of dust floated about him. He knelt down to scoop up a bucket packed with lemon-scented water and soap, as well as a heavy duty sponge, and made his way towards the back of the room to begin the painstaking project of scrubbing his thoughts away. He had about three more days, he decided, before he returned home. He'd taken a fairly sizeable leave from work, and that was really pushing the limits of how long he wanted to stick around.

While he was shifting an old steamer trunk...the same one he remembered mom making him lock his comics in back when Michael first...Sam had to pause and crouch down to take a deep breath. It was heavy. He frowned, flipping the lid open to look inside. Mostly rusted tools that should have been cleaned or tossed out years ago...a box of glass eyeballs...he shivered, grabbing a dirty cloth from the trunk and draping it over them. Dolls creeped him out. Dead animals posed as surfers and gunslingers creeped him out. Boxes full of funny-looking eyeballs staring at him... _definitely_ creeped him out…

But something stood out, amidst the junk. Sitting on the top of the rusted tools was a crisp white envelope, and it looked like it had just been placed there recently. Written in bold ink on top was his name…

"The hell…?" He mumbled, scooping the letter up and tearing it open. Why would grandpa have left him a letter? In a trunk? ...In his workshop? Had he been planning to mail it, and just…? His eyes scanned the contents curiously, and he felt his heart drop into his stomach…

_Sam,_

_It's the day after your wedding. You got yourself a good lady, don't you take her for granted. I'm writing this because I don't want you to make the same mistakes I have. I know you're thinking about keeping up with the hunting and I hope you have sense enough not to. I worry about you and your brother but especially you. I know you feel responsible, I know you feel guilty, but it isn't your fault. If anything it's mine. I should have warned you, told you the stories at least, but I thought it would be different, that this could never happen to you boys because I'm a local and they don't tend to go after locals._

_Michael's been coming around less and less but he calls sometimes. I'm not sure what he really thinks of us, not sure if he sees us as food or if there's a spark of humanity still in there. I like to think it's the latter._

_When I was your age I made some mistakes. I hunted, I made enemies of creatures countless years older than me. I didn't think about what would happen to my family if something went wrong. I'm still worried that one day they'll come after me. Vampires have long memories, they don't forget who you are, what you've done, and if they think you've wronged them, well, you'd better be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life. Think about Diana and the kids I'm sure you're gonna have, think about what would happen to them rather than of protecting others from what you've gone through. It isn't worth it. You can't save everyone._

_Grandpa_

_P.S. - Sam, I'm sorry. If they come after you, know that I did everything I could to keep you safe. I couldn't run from my past, I couldn't escape something that lives forever. Lucy and I are going on a little trip, if something happens to us you have to know that it isn't your fault. This is my past, my mistakes, not yours. Although you've been hunting, and I know you have, the vamps coming after me, I'm the one that royally pissed them off. Keep your family safe and no more hunting, go home._

_Grandpa_

Wiping his eyes, Sam folded up the letter and jammed it back into the envelope with shaking hands. If he had any doubts left whether or not this really was his fault in some distant way, that sealed it. Too bad he hadn't figured this shit out a decade or so ago. Grandpa really should have given him this damn letter sooner. Then again, he wasn't sure whether he would have listened...maybe it was better this way.

Before he could continue to brood about this, his cell phone rang in his pocket.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath, digging it out and closing the steamer trunk after pocketing the envelope. It was a text message from Ed…

' **Hrry up. B here soon. I need 2 tlk 2 u!'**

Right...Ed wanted to meet up on the boardwalk today, didn't he? Well, probably better to tell him he was done with this shit right to his face than deal with him crashing into the house later and pissing Diana off all over again after he went home.


	9. Striking a Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys and Marcus reach an agreement. Ed finally remembers Alan is still half human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kage - And there's finally some double crossing!
> 
> Ran - Aw. How cute. Ed and Alan are finally on speaking terms again!

Something was wrong...and Alan was scared. That was a word he hadn't had in his vocabulary since he started stuffing muskrats for a living. But it was true, and he didn't know what he was going to do about it, either. When he'd left Sam's place, he had planned on going back today, but he couldn't even bring himself to leave the house. He'd had to actually force himself to down twice as much blood as usual. It was like the cravings just didn't go away, and he didn't know why.

He didn't know if it was something in the air, or just nerves, or maybe he was finally running out of time...but if it came down to it, he'd be damned before he left the house again if he felt like he was going to lose control of himself.

Kicking his blanket away in disgust, Alan stood up from his bed and drug himself towards the kitchen. He was hungry...again. Normally he wouldn't be up this early. In fact, he preferred to sleep until early evening, if he didn't have plans...but the freaky nightmares were keeping him awake.

The old man had told him in the beginning that bad dreams were usually a bad sign; he should watch out for them if they started popping up. And if they did...he'd better make sure he made the right choice before someone else had to make it for him. Because animal blood could only keep him going for so long...

"Damn it…" Alan grumbled as he yanked open his fridge and pulled out a medium-sized thermus. He examined the label...great, _squirrel_. Ugh. Frankly, he wasn't sure if he could handle much more of this bullshit anyway.

* * *

Sam stood waiting for his 'friend'. He had it all planned out, knew exactly what he was going to say to Edgar when he saw him. But half of that sort of fled his mind when he caught sight of the dubious hunter parking himself outside of the old comic shop (now, ironically, a frozen yogurt shop.) Edgar...was dressed like a very ugly and unconvincing woman…

He blinked, "What the fuck, Edgar?!"

Edgar closed the compact mirror he was using to help apply an extra layer of concealer over his bristled chin, "Sam! Thank god you're here!" He grunted, striding towards his only friend and fellow hunter.

"Edgar, I-I'm, fuck man, why're you dressed like that?"

Narrowing his thickly-coated eyebrows, Edgar frowned, "Sam...there are eyes... _everywhere_."

"Ed...I have something to tell you." He needed to get this out there, the ridiculousness of the situation aside, "I...I'm not hunting anymore."

"...What?" Edgar was aghast, almost shocked into dropping his clutch.

"I can't do it anymore, I have to think about my family, I can't keep doing this."

"Sam," taking a deep breath, the simultaneously gruffer and also more feminine Frog brother smoothed his features out, "what if they come for your family? The ones back home? You can't just...stop defending truth, honor, and American justice!" He petulantly stomped his heel.

"They already did! I have to protect them! I have to be there!" He clenched his hands into fists, "You should quit, make a family."

Edgar shook his head furiously, "I can't, Sam! I'm a warrior...I've got to...I've got to get rid of as many of those bloodsuckers as I can…" He paused, mumbling under his breath, "make up for what happened to Alan…"

"You can't make up for it. If you want to do something to help Alan, find the one who turned him and kill him."

"...I...I…" Edgar ran his hands through his hair, leaning against the side of the building, "I _know_ where they are. But I can't go there alone...and Alan doesn't want anything to do with me anymore, just because I had a tiny little freak-out about him turning half shit-sucker…"

"You told everyone he was dead, go, talk to him, fix things. It's not too late, he can still be human again, you can still have a human brother." It made him ache inside, thinking about what it would be like if Michael was human. He'd definitely be balding. He'd probably have his _own_ family...it just wasn't fair. None of this was _fair_.

Edgar crossed his arms, grunting, "I...guess I can go see him tonight before I go hunting…got a lot of shit-suckers to deal with tonight. Too many to count...it's gonna be like a freaking vampire convention."

"Just go talk to him, he's still your brother." He sighed, "I'll be in town for a little while longer, don't do anything stupid, alright?"

"...When have I ever done anything stupid, Sam?" Edgar demanded. And honestly, he really believed he was a model of intelligent life choices.

* * *

As the sun died over the horizon, Dwayne's eyes snapped open with a snarl. He was the first to leave their roost, and the first to catch an unwelcome scent. A young man was standing in the entrance looking around. He smelled of fear and determination.

"Umm, hello? I uhh, have a message. Anyone here?" In his hand was clenched a sealed envelope, "Hello?" He took a hesitant step inside.

Sailing past a thin, tattered curtain that led through the hotel to the rooms and resting places beyond, Dwayne landed on his feet in the middle of the lobby. He was wearing his game face, and not too happy with what he saw. "The fuck do you want?" He growled, though the human had very limited time to explain himself before he was dinner.

He cringed back, swallowing hard and holding out the letter, "I-I was told to deliver this." His hands were shaking, "P-Please don't hurt me." He whimpered softly.

David yawned as he strolled into the lobby, stretching slowly, "Mm? Dwayne, what's going on?" He looked at the human, "And what's this?" He growled softly, "Someone bring take out? You shouldn't have." He stepped forward, snatching the letter out of his hand, "Dwayne, why don't you hold our guest while I read this." He pulled the letter out and began to read, "Lost Boys, I'm writing this because I have a proposition to make. As a show of good faith, I sent the messenger as a token, he's A positive, I hope that's acceptable. Meet me tonight at the carousel, 9:30. You'll want to hear my proposal, it will benefit both of us greatly. -Marcus." David scowled down at it, "Who the fuck is Marcus?"

Dwayne snorted as he restrained the guy in one quick move, "someone with a death wish." Peace offering or not, sending anyone into their place was a no-no. His run-in with Marko the night before had done nothing to calm Dwayne down. If anything, he was even moodier today. Definitely not something that happened to him very often.

"We'll go see him, have a nice little talk, see what he has to say. Besides, he gave us a free dinner." He grinned wickedly at the young man who was now whimpering pathetically, "Go ahead and eat him, maybe it'll make you feel better." He headed to find the others, they were going to take a little trip down to the boardwalk, maybe they could find out who spilled about their home, "GET UP, BOYS! WE HAVE A MEETING!" He shouted at the still sleeping remainders of their pack.

* * *

Edgar drew up into Alan's driveway and shut off his car engine, drumming on his steering wheel. What did you say to a brother you systematically cut out of your life and perpetuated a lie about his death to any and everyone you knew? Maybe he should have bought daisies or something…

Before he climbed out of his car, Edgar quickly snatched up a cross and slipped it around his neck. Just in case...couldn't be too careful, after all. Alan or not. It was after dark, and he needed to be prepared just in case a bloodsucker had been tracking him.

As he trotted towards the front door, Edgar felt a chill run down his spine. The wind was picking up. With a yelp, he spun about and waved his arms in several jerky swinging gestures, a la Bruce Lee. But there was no one...he quickly cleared his throat and turned back towards the house. Mom and dad's house...Alan's now. Just as isolated as the Emerson place. Just as likely no one would hear his screams for miles around if something happened to him...could Alan be _that_ mad at him?

When he reached the front door, Edgar rapped his knuckles on the door several times. No answer.

"Alan?" Edgar grunted, knocking again.

"GO AWAY!" Alan shouted through the door.

"Listen, Alan...I had a chat with Sam. I'm willing to overlook your fang problems if we can just talk!" Edgar yelled back, even louder than Alan.

"Ed...this isn't personal right now...I said go away!" And it sounded like something was being thrown against the door, shattering…

"Was that mom's vase?" Edgar asked, incredulous.

"Listen...Ed...I _really_ need you to get the fuck away from this house before I do something I'll regret...and you won't even have time to regret. I'm having a lot of trouble tonight, and I don't need you around to make it worse," Alan ground out, opening the door slightly and peeking through the latched chain.

"Alan...I'm your brother. I'm here for you." Edgar leveled him with a firm glare.

Alan snorted, "bit late for that, isn't it? Come back three years ago and maybe don't fuck me over the next time around, huh?" He growled softly, "There are too many vampires here, maybe, fuck, I dunno, it's hard to stop myself, I want to feed." His voice came out a hiss through his fangs.

Edgar's eyes bugged out, "Alan...dude!" He sputtered, covering his own mouth in a mixture of horror and...more horror. There wasn't a lot of room in his head for multiple emotions. He lowered his hand, shaking, "then I can be here for you. I know I wasn't before, okay? But...well, I am now. Just let me in, and we'll make some tea or something to calm you down...or bean dip. Remember how much you used to like bean dip?" He nodded his head, urging Alan to listen to reason. "You wouldn't eat me. I know it, Alan."

Alan blinked several times and took a deep breath, steadying himself as he pressed his forehead against the edge of the doorframe, leeching away the cold from the wood. "I-I…" He closed his eyes, sliding himself down the door to the floor, "I'd like that, just, I think you need to stay on that side of the door for a little longer, okay?"

"Here or there. I'm not gonna leave you alone anymore. You got it?" Edgar affirmed, leaning his forehead against his side of the door frame with a grin. "Brothers, right? No matter what."

Laughing lightly, Alan shook his head, "Ed...why are you wearing lipstick?"

"Uh…"

* * *

"You know what I miss?" Paul sighed, marching behind Marko as they trailed towards the carousel. "I miss the old security guards they used to toss up here...don't you miss them, Davey?" He looked about wistfully. "They were so fun to chase…"

Upkeep for this area of the boardwalk had definitely gone down in recent years. Too many people preferred spending their nights hanging out at coffee shops and playing on their smartphones. Rides and fresh air seemed to be losing their appeal for a lot of the newer residents of Santa Carla, so there was less reason to hire so much security to look after the place. The high mortality rate didn't help, either.

David nodded, "Yeah, I do, nights just aren't the same without them." He looked around, spotting a young man, vampire if the smell was anything to go by, standing there. He wasn't dressed like one of those idiots, was wearing normal clothes, dark jeans, a leather jacket, boots, but David had a feeling he was with those crazy ass vampires. David headed toward him, stopping when they were toe to toe, "You must be Marcus."

He nodded, "Yes. I hope my offering was enough to ensure my continued survival for the moment and what I have to propose will further do so." He paused for a moment, "Might I ask your name?"

"David." He stated, glancing at the others, "Michael, Dwayne, Marko, and Paul." He motioned to them, "Now, what do you want."

" _If this guy had anything to do with gramps and mom, I'm gutting him,"_ Michael mentally grumbled, glaring at the 'intruder', because that was ultimately how they saw him. Whether he had a good deal or not, he didn't belong there.

"For starters, I want Claire dead." He stated calmly, "She made me but has gone completely insane. She has no instinct, wants to play human and forces the rest of us to do so as well. I can also give you the ones who killed Michael's grandfather." He paused, "All I want in return is to be allowed to live and leave your territory. I'll take those who aren't too far gone and make sure they never come here again."

Paul leaned over Marko's shoulder, leering darkly at Marcus. Right now wasn't the time to make stupid remarks...even Paul knew that. And he wasn't the only one. Marko was biting the thumb of his glove and grinning as well. They made quite the creepy pair. But Michael and Dwayne were contributing with their own fair share of menacing looks as well. Certainly not a group you'd want to invite to a garden party.

David looked thoughtful, " _What do you think, boys?"_ He glanced at Michael specifically, " _Want to know who killed gramps? Sounds like Marcus will give him to you on a platter."_

Michael glanced over at David and then back to Marcus thoughtfully, " _yeah. I do."_ He would have been happy to just get rid of all of them, but he'd settle for this.

He looked back at Marcus, "Alright, deal."

" _Oh! I have an idea!"_ Paul was bursting at the seams, bobbing on his heels with excitement. " _We find out where she hides away, give her a happy little wake-up call...if she plays human, you fucking know she's probably sleeping in a bed…"_

" _Could swing by some pet stores, stock up on creepy crawlies…"_ Marko agreed, his eyes dancing.

" _I don't see why just killing the bitch isn't good enough for you nutjobs,"_ Dwayne smirked. He had to admit, the idea was amusing. " _What do you think, David?"_

" _Killing her is enough for me, apparently not enough for Paul but what do you expect?"_ He rolled his eyes, " _He's welcome to do whatever he wants but that doesn't mean we can't just off her."_ He turned his attention to Marcus, "So, let's get this started." He grinned darkly.

* * *

As they leaned against their bikes, Michael reached over and snatched David's cigarette from his hand, taking a pull and passing it back to him, " _we doing anything tonight, or just waiting until…?_ " He didn't know how to describe it, but he was going stir crazy. The usual hunting and riding just wasn't doing it for him right now, and he'd prefer not to constantly deal with sand getting everywhere just to deal with a bit of pent-up stress.

" _Yeah, let's take a little trip to Luna Bay."_ He mounted his bike, " _Let loose a little bit, I think we all need it."_

"Finally!" Paul exclaimed, flicking a used-up cigarette at Marko and hopping onto his bike. " _About damn time! I say we get some hookers, see a skin flick, maybe grab a bit of the good stuff...go to a-_ "

" _No._ " Dwayne effectively ended that line of discussion.

Paul whined, " _oh, come on! We could pretend we're-_ "

" _No._ " Michael agreed with Dwayne.

" _But you're not even-_ "

" _No!_ " They all snapped at him.

" _Movie sounds good, though,_ " Marko remarked, looking thoughtful. " _What about that dollar theatre? Bet it's nice and quiet there…_ "

" _And the midget has a good idea. Cheap movie it is. Let's get going."_ David started up his bike, making his tires squeal before peeling out and heading for Luna Bay.

" _I still say we get a couple hookers…"_ Paul grumbled, pouting.

David rolled his eyes, " _Last time we let you have any say in what we did, Marko wound up badly burned and it took a month for him to heal. So, no, you never get to choose again."_

" _How was I supposed to know that yacht was going to flip over!"_ He huffed angrily, " _My idea was fun!"_

Marko growled at him, baring his teeth, " _Your idea almost got me killed!"_

" _It would have if Michael hadn't reacted as fast as he did."_ Dwayne stated, swerving to avoid an oncoming car.

" _And guess who had to deal with him complaining about the burns up both arms?"_ David still didn't forgive the blonde for that one.

" _Marko complained more!" Paul whined._

" _Yeah? You wanna see how it feels to take a running water bath? I can show you right now!"_ Marko snarled, " _You're an asshole Paul."_


End file.
